


Two Types of Elites

by B2st101



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Hinata Shouyou Protection Squad, Hinata Shouyou-centric, Hurt Hinata Shouyou, M/M, Minor Character Death, Murder, POV Hinata Shouyou, POV Ushijima Wakatoshi, Rarepair, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28245939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B2st101/pseuds/B2st101
Summary: 99% Fluffy & Dramatic content! 1% Spicy content!Two different types of elites cross paths in an unconventional way.1. Shouyou Hinata is righteous, beloved by many, and is unfortunately in the wrong place at the wrong time. The man has captivated many troublesome suitors.2. On the other end of the spectrum, there is Wakatoshi Ushijima, who gets his hands dirty and rules the Shiratorizawa Syndicate with an iron fist. Who dares to challenge him?*Note: This a temporary summary and it may be subjected to change. *
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 21
Kudos: 42





	1. Warning! The Eldest’s Duty & Burden

**Author's Note:**

> Warning#1: The subject of murder, and graphic violence will be discussed in this chapter!  
> Warning#2: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!
> 
> Important Notice:   
> Hello everyone,
> 
> I hope you would check my first Haikyuu fanfic, ‘The Polar Bear Met Its Sunshine’ first. It’s about Takanobu Aone x Shouyou Hinata. #Aohina Ship!   
> Actually, I highly recommend you check it out first because I do reference back to it and vice versa.  
> +Enjoy the 41 Chapters!  
> For your convenience, the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26746423/chapters/65251102
> 
> Other Disclaimers:   
> 1\. For this second Haikyuu!! Fanfic, Wakatoshi Ushijima x Shouyou Hinata, the current plot is not set in stone. It’s going to be another slow burn. In addition, my tags, summary, and age rating may or may not change. However, I will inform or give you warnings in the Beginning Notes/Chapter Titles. I’m writing this as I go!~  
> 2\. I do not own Haikyuu nor do I own any music or any references that will be mentioned.  
> Nor am I an expert in writing. Also, sorry for my terrible grammar. 
> 
> Other Notes:   
> A/N= Refers to the Author’s thoughts  
> ‘...’ = Internal Thoughts  
> In the End Notes, I will give you an estimate time when I will post in which I’ll update/edit often in that section. 
> 
> Thank you,  
> Cheesy A/N

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS IN THE BEGINNING NOTES!**

“To back out or to not back out.” I, Shouyou Hinata, hastily plucked the deep red and delicate rose’s petals, one by one, over the edge; they disappeared over the iron railing. The phrase was repeated until the stem armed with thorns was left, and lastly, I said to myself, “To not back out.” Then I tossed the stem back onto the porcelain patterned floor, and soon, I pulled out my favorite brand of cigarettes, ‘Mevius,’ and from the interior stash pocket of my single-breasted, white suit jacket. 

I selected one cigarette from the box and lit it up with my sterling silver zippo lighter. In hand, I stared at the engraving, ‘The Sunshines,’ and then I read our names underneath, ‘My parents, Natsu and myself,’ before bringing the filtered end to my lips and blowing out against the cold air. Currently, it was **mid-December** , and it was a time where crime ran rampant. From above, I noticed that a veil of blue-gray, stratus clouds had covered the entire sky; meanwhile, the Sun was also being overshadowed. Once more, I exhale slowly. It was nostalgic. The aroma and flavor of blueberry from the cig accompanied me as the flood of memories poured in. It was all that I had left. Suddenly, my ringtone went off. 

_‘_ Ask me why. 

Do you know what a secret star is? 

Do you know what’s secret soul is? 

Do you know what a secret dream is? 

Like a sea~

Open your eyes.’ 

( **A/N** : Song, “Intro” by Brown Eyed Soul) 

‘What a beautiful voice…’ I unconsciously hummed to the ominous melody and tapped my fingers along the cold railing until the Caller ID popped on the screen. It was my little sister, **Natsu Hinata** (•̀ᴗ•́)و☀️. Within seconds, I clicked the green button. 

“Onii-chan, where are you?! It’s almost time!” 

“I know. I know. I’ll be there in a second, okay.” 

Hearing her excitement on the other line made me feel guilty. 

“I can’t believe you're getting married!” she gushed. “I’m so happy for you. Also, thank you for buying my ticket!” 

“Of course, I had to.” In truth, I was forced to. “How are you enjoying London?” 

“I went to the clock tower, ‘Big Ben’ and the ‘London Eye.’ I went to many places! Omo… the food is so great here too. My gosh...Yesterday, I went to ‘Poppies Fish & Chips!’ You have to try that place! Anyways, I would rather tell you everything in person, Onii-Chan! So hurry and come here already! I've been waiting!” 

“Okay, okay. See you soon, Natsu!” 

I slightly chuckled at her cute antics. Quickly, I sent a text to Sugawara and Sawamura, who were kind enough to supervise her stay since she’s a minor. 

“Tomorrow, please take her to ‘Westfield Stratford City Shopping Centre.' Pay for everything and anything she wants, and I'll pay you two back later. Once again, thank you for the huge favor!" 

Simultaneously, I stubbed out the cigarette and disposed of it in the trash. ‘What a waste. I barely even finished it.’ 

I opened the large stained glass door and entered inside the dimmed cathedral. Although it was grand, much of its original splendor was lost over time. As I walked through the long, dreary hallway, fragments of my memories trickled in. 

“I’m begging you. Don’t take her from me!” I angrily shouted. “Please! I lost everything, can’t you see that?!” I was on my knees, pleading as the agency’s staff held me back to stop me from rushing out. Everyone in the room was taken aback by my sudden outburst. “Please…She’s all I have,” I croaked, shifting my eyes to the tile floor in defeat. “Natsu…” 

“No need to be aggressive,” Ikkei said, ruffling my ginger hair. “Kiddo, let’s have a talk in my office now.” 

I reluctantly nodded, and as I looked up into the older man’s eyes, I saw pity. Due to unexpected hardships as a naive, **7-year-old kid** , I was forced to grow up early. I quickly had to learn to cope with myself and take care of others around me. In this case, it was Natsu. Our biological parents both passed away in a so-called “car accident.” 

It was far from the truth since I witnessed everything that occurred in that house as if it was yesterday. Underneath the bed, I held my dear breath and prayed for my baby sister, Natsu, who was **1** , not to cry. I desperately cradled her between my arms when I heard the cries of agony, shrill, frantic screaming, and the plethora of shots. I never saw the man’s face, but I heard his haunting, mellow voice, and I saw his footsteps briefly passed by us. It was an intense 30 minutes to maybe an hour of waiting in complete silence. I finally got out when I knew the coast was clear, and I alerted 911. However, the police had the audacity to rule it as a “double suicide.” They told me that I was mentally incompetent or simply too young to understand the situation's gravity. ‘How could I ever forget? How could you tell me that?’ Since then, my thoughts were clouded with negativity and sheer confusion. ‘Don’t you see the blood on my white slippers? Don’t you see the blood splattered on the wall dripping? Their last handprints to the door? How could you tell me otherwise...I saw their bodies...my parents.’” Atlas, the perpetrator was never caught, and I never found out the reason “why.” I winced at the recollection of the graphic imagery. ‘Exactly, how could I ever forget?’ Never in my life, I wanted to cry so bad, yet I didn’t. 

As if things couldn’t get worse... At the funeral, the main employee who was monitoring the event was insensitive and ill-mannered. “Can you guys hurry up,” The man interjected, frequently checking his golden, Rolex watch. “We don’t have all day. Time is money.” They lowered both caskets down to the graves without my permission and to my dismay when I was in the middle of mourning. I bit my lip so hard to muffle my sobs that it bled. ‘I hate crying! I hate crying in front of people. I don’t want people to see me like this!’ Internally, my mind was screaming. ‘Mom, and Dad...why did you have to suffer? Why did you have to die like that? In that way?! How can I smile when you’re gone.’ In that duration, I was too distraught to register the man’s impudent words until after I heard their voices. 

“Shouyou, smile for us…” It was my Mom. 

“Be strong for Natsu.” It was my Dad.

I dropped down to my knees in disbelief, doubled over, and angrily banged my fist against the dirt and grass. ‘I will...I will...I will try my hardest.’ All the tears I bottled in were now streaming down my face. ‘I think I'm losing it... They’re not here with me…They're gone! I’m only hearing things!’ I sobbed till my voice became hoarse. ‘Dammit! Damn this world.’ I briefly glanced up to glare at the employee with red, watery eyes before shaking my head. “If you experience everything I went through. I bet you wouldn’t dare say that to me,” I said, gritting my teeth. “Just because you're desensitized doesn’t mean I am!” I roared back. The man stood there, flabbergasted.

I bit my inner cheek. ‘Don’t say it.’ I shook my head, abruptly stood up, and ran with all my might. I wanted to tell that man, him, but I didn’t. ‘If you don’t know what hell is. If you never suffer, or maybe you have, but you still don’t know. Maybe you need to suffer more to understand to be compassionate. Therefore, I hope you face hell from now on.’ 

After hearing what had unfolded, in a fit of rage, Ikkei ended up filing several complaints to the funeral director to fire that individual. It didn’t happen...

Now, I was **10,** and Natsu was now a toddler; she was **4**. Like many other kids who suffered from unfavorable, unfair circumstances, we were brought to an adoption agency. In Japan, ‘Lil Tykes’ was run under the government's supervision, and CEO Ikkei Ukai founded this sector in Miyagi Prefecture. For three years, I took care of Natsu to my best ability because she was my world. However, I would be subjected to another similar yet different painful experience. Instead of a permanent separation like my parents, it was semi-permanent. 

“Shouyou,” Ikkei hesitated, “You overheard everything, didn’t you?” 

I firmly nodded. 

“Your sister, Natsu, is in the process of being adopted. It’s bound to happen...I won’t lie to you, but the harsh reality is that siblings tend to get separated. 

Besides, the likelihood of parents adopting older children is statistically not as high. Therefore time is of the essence. However, Natsu’s case is a little different. I can promise you it will be for the better. Don’t you want that for her?” 

“I do…” Ikkei spoke the grim truth. ‘In this world, how can a kid take care of another kid. I lacked the power, resources, and capabilities to do so. The law isn’t on my side either...’ I loathe this fact the most. “Is that a half-promise? How can you guarantee Natsu’s future?” I asked, staring directly into his eyes. ‘Don’t lie to me.’ 

Ikkei’s eyes widened at my inquiry. ‘This kid certainly can sometimes be intimidating... It’s like someone flipped a switch. His eyes are piercing and calculative. I can’t read him at all. It’s such a contrast to his usual friendly, sunshine like demeanor.’ 

“Ahem...Weak- I mean...My grandson and his husband are adopting Natsu. I can guarantee her future as I long as I live,” he promised. 

Hinata let out a long sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to come off as hostile and defensive...But is it possible that I can please meet them first?” 

“It’s understandable...I’m sorry to put you in such a difficult situation, and of course, you can meet them.” 

“It’s not your fault. Besides, I believe I should be grateful...It would be better than Natsu goes to someone who isn’t an entire stranger, so thank you,” I softly smiled at him. 

At first, when I met Ikkei, he was quite scary in terms of appearance. However, I realized the man’s character was admirable. Although strict, he was passionate, hardworking, and kind-hearted, so he’s well respected in the community for his efforts to help children in need and find families. However, I was still highly skeptical and conflicted about the whole manner until I met his grandson and husband the next day. 

“Keishin, you’re a minute late! It’s unacceptable!” Ikkei stormed into the room, immediately flipping him over. “Oh! Ittetsu, you’re here too. Glad you can make it,” Ikkei grinned, shaking his hand meanwhile ignoring his grandson. Ittetsu broke out into hearty laughter. This greeting was often a normal occurrence. 

Keishin groaned and murmured, “You Shitty Old Man.” His mouth was clamped by Ikkei’s hand, and he warned, “Now. Now. No swearing in front of the kiddos. Call me gramps, you weakling. Anyway, glad to see that you finally made an effort to visit me finally. How many times do I have to remind you to visit me, huh?” 

“What are you talking about?! You’re the one who won’t return my calls or texts,” Keishin protested. “You’ve been busier than usual? Don’t overwork yourself, old man.” 

They shared a brief hug. “Shouyou. You can come inside now.” As I entered, Ikkei left. “I need to head to the office, so see you two at dinner tonight.” After ruffling my hair, he coolly waved them off. “Remember Shrimpo, try not to scare my grandson too much. He’s a real wimp.” 

In my eyes, Keishin had Ikkei’s stern face. They were similar yet different in certain aspects. His dyed and banded blonde hair stood out with his two silver piercings on his left ear. As I glanced at his significant other, Ittetsu, I noticed the man was vastly different in terms of image. He had softer features, wore glasses, had short, messy black locks of hair, and looked more studious in his casual suit than Keishin’s red tracksuit. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Shouyou Hinata or Natsu’s older brother,” I beamed, and they both blinked and rubbed their eyes. ‘So bright. His smile. He’s the Sun! Natsu is the spitting image of him?!’ 

We both exchanged proper introductions. I found out that they were both high school teachers. Keishin was a P.E teacher and Coach for his volleyball club. We then briefly bonded over the fact that we both liked the sport. Meanwhile, Ittetsu was the faculty advisor who also taught Japanese literature. Overall, they seemed to be very enthusiastic, kind, and level-headed. I also noticed that they complemented each other very well. 

“I have three major requests. One, please take care of Natsu. As for the other options... You’re not obligated, but please consider it…” I said earnestly, looking straight into their eyes. Internally, I wanted to spill my heart and plead to them. Instead, I ignored the urge to be desperate. “Second, if it’s possible, I would like to maintain my relationship with her. I will try not to meddle in your affairs nor intrude too much by visiting...Honestly, I just want her to know that I exist, I’ll be there if she needs me, and I love her.” Ittetsu and Keishin exchange a brief look. They were tightly holding hands as they listened to me. “Third, as you heard from Ikkei...about our parents...I don’t want her to know the truth until she’s stable and ready. I want to tell her myself or you can if you want. Then again, I’m just a kid. What do I know,” I said, gritting my teeth before smiling. To my surprise, they both started to cry. “Ah...I’m sorry... If I was asking for too much,” I said nervously, rubbing my neck. 

“Dammit, Shouyou,” Keishin muttered, covering his face with both of his hands. “I wasn’t prepared to cry.” A few droplets escaped his eyes as he grimaced. Ittetsu was sobbing uncontrollably, and I would pat his back to console him. 

“I’m okay. We’re okay. Natsu and I,” I softly spoke while they tried to recompose themselves. “Thank you for listening to me...I think you both will be suited to take care of her.” 

After several minutes, Keishin and Ittetsu grabbed my hand. “We will. We promise! We’ll do everything in our power to keep her happy. Please count on us! You can tell her...I also agree with you that we should wait till she’s ready to know...You can also keep in contact with her and visit. You’re welcome any time. But” Ittetsu’s voice trailed off, and he began to tear up again. Keishin carried a guilty expression. “You do know—” 

“Yes, I know you are moving from Miyagi, all the way down to Kagoshima prefecture. The distance won’t stop me from visiting,” I calmly said, handing another tissue. “I know what you’re about to say next, but you don’t have to. I’m grateful that you both have sympathy for us, yet don’t pity us forever. Don’t pity me. You don’t owe me any explanation on why you’re adopting Natsu instead of me. Whether it is financial or X, Y, Z reasons, don’t bother to tell me...Don’t feel guilty at all. I’m glad that you are willing to help her. That is enough for me,” I admitted, slightly smiling. ‘It was the truth. I meant every single word.’ Once more, they broke down sobbing. ‘Everything is going to be okay...’ Well, I thought I was okay, but I was tested when Natsu cried at the airport. 

“Natsu, you’ll always be in my heart!” I beamed up at her before crouching down to meet her eye level. “So don’t cry.” 

She gave a brief nod before clenching her tiny fists in determination. “Onii-Chan, you’ll be in my heart too. You’re the best brother I could have!” 

I wiped her tears with my sleeve, and then I held my pinky out to her. “Promise me you’ll do me proud. Promise me you’ll treat your parents, Ittetsu and Keishin well and show the world who’s boss.” She linked her pinky with mine and then jumped on top of me to hug me. At the force, I fell back, and while my spine ached at the impact, I held her tightly for one last time. It felt like an eternity, but it was quite short. However, luckily it wasn't the last hug.

As time passed, I maintained a positive relationship with Ittetsu, Keishin, and Ikkei. Even at a distance, Natsu would often call, text, send packages and letters to me. If I had time, I would also visit her. Eventually, I told her the truth about our parents, but I spared her the gruesome details. As an older brother, I didn’t want her to experience the same things or hardships I went through, so she asked about how I was doing. I would constantly tell her white lies. ‘Is that so wrong to do? To shield her?’ I often wonder to myself. ‘I only want the best for her. As a brother, I love her dearly…’ And in a blink of an eye, I was now **22** , she’s **16** , and I’m about to marry the “love of my life.” We are living in two completely separate lives and phases. Since I, Shouyou Hinata, also ended up being adopted. However, the circumstances I faced were vastly different in comparison to her’s...


	2. Smoking-Tsukishima’s POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

**Tsukishima’s POV:**

“Hey, Kei!” Akiteru beckoned with his hand before pointing at me. “That's my cute younger brother. The one with the glasses.” 

‘Akiteru’s tone was awfully cheerful. What’s got him all excited?’ I reluctantly walked through the sea of 200 plus elites and other guests. ‘Ugh...social events...why did Akiteru have to drag me here? Doesn’t he know I have a lot on my plate right now?’ As I came closer, I noticed the man next to him was significantly shorter in stature, had a baby faced, doe-eyed amber-brown eyes, and his bright orange slicked-back hair practically stood out like a sore thumb. ‘The Groom got him excited?! Wait, that sounded wrong. Am I that sleep-deprived?!’ 

“Hello, my name is Kei Tsukishima.” I bowed out of formalities and simultaneously handed the man my dark green business card with gold lettering. As I looked up, I keenly studied him. ‘I can’t put my finger on it but do I know him? At least, he does seem to be on good terms with Akiteru. Therefore, he can’t be a terrible person.’

“GWAH! Thank you. The name is Shouyou Hinata,” he said, accepting the card with two hands. He then fumbled his pockets. “I’m sorry! I’m not carrying my business cards in hand.” 

“That’s perfectly fine. I don’t expect you to do it on such a day. Congratulations.” 

Closing the gap, I took a step closer. “Your hair…” 

“Is something wrong?” Hinata peered up at me wide-eyed. 

‘As a perfectionist, this greatly bothered me.’ I tucked a single strand of his wild hair back in place. “There... It’s perfect now.” 

“Oh! Thank you!” 

“Not a problem at all,” I replied calmly, backing away. ‘That smell… Hinata’s breath strongly smelled of **mint** , however underlying it had hints of **smoke and oddly blueberry**? Seems familiar? Does he **smoke**? I would have never guessed it.’ 

Hinata then read out loud, “‘ _Sendai Frogs’_ Law Firm. Attorney at Law.” He awed, and his eyes formed into two adorable **crescent** moon shapes while he broke into a radiant grin. ‘I think I have something in my eye.’ Immediately I took off my glasses and squinted them before rubbing them with my ‘JINS’ logo microfiber cloth. ‘Am I allowed to witness that?’ I suddenly felt wide awake. Meanwhile, Akiteru was also rubbing his eyes. “I felt like I experienced a solar eclipse.”

I ignored Akiteru’s comment. ‘That’s one Lame—ass Sun & Moon joke. Just cause our names. I seriously can’t.’ “Ahem...Besides legal advising, I normally work as a criminal prosecutor. Feel free to contact me if you seek advice. I also practice Family law.” 

Hinata opened his mouth and then bit down on his lip in contemplation. ‘What’s with the hesitation?’ 

“Ah! Does that mean you see Kageyama often in court?” he asked, tilting his head at me. 

I twitched in irritation when I heard that name. “On the opposites sides, I do—”

At noon the cathedral's chimes set off, and before I could say anything else, Akiteru wrapped his heavy arm around my shoulders, and in a quiet voice, he warned, “Don’t act salty.” 

“Ah...The ceremony will start soon now if you excuse me. I need to go check on a few things first.” Hinata made a brisk walk to the exit but stopped midway, and with his back turned, he said, “Thank you for attending.” 

“Why did you stop me? Everyone knows I would enjoy rubbing salt into Kageyama’s wounds until the day I die. It would be my greatest pleasure to leave him in the middle of the Dead Sea. Correction, I would leave him in the waters of Don Juan Pond in Antarctica. In accordance with _BBC News_ , ‘The salinity is about 44%.’ To me, that’s paradise, and to him, that’s hell. Besides, even if people didn’t know, I could care less.” 

“Stop listing statistics from one of your cases.” Akiteru slightly bonked my head with the side of his palm. “They are brothers. Therefore, don’t bad mouth Kageyama in front of him. It’s rude.” 

“Wait. What?!” Then I whispered, “They look and act so different. Was it due to parental infidelity?”

“That would be very scandalous... Hinata was adopted,” he whispered back. “I’m surprised you didn't know. After all, you three went to the same middle and high school.” 

‘We did?!’

“Students gather around!” The teacher instructed, glancing at the analog clock on the wall. She then directed us out of the classroom, and in a single file line, we all headed to the assembly and sat in our assigned class bleachers. 

“Today, we have special guests!” the vice-principal excitedly announced into the microphone, fixing his sliding Toupée. None of us knew he was bald until that “famous” volleyball incident occurred at the gym. “I now present to you the rock band, ‘The Little Giant!’” 

The lead singer’s name, Tenma Udai, was chanted. The man recently debuted, and he was on the rise to great fame. Many singers would occasionally visit schools to interact with students or fans by giving a free concert. It was their way of giving back to the community. It was an incentive or encouragement for students to continue to study hard and do well on their exams.

After a couple of songs, midway through one, Udai stepped down from the stage and handed the mic to some raging, overly excited fans. 

‘I’m glad I’m sitting in the back and straight dabbed in the middle.’ 

For example, the mic went to Yamaguchi; he blanked out. Out of pity, I shook my head at him. ‘Exactly, what if I’m not a fan. What if I don’t know all the lyrics. I knew better than that. Surely, someone would post the whole event on Youtube or the media. I’m not an idiot. I don’t plan to become an internet meme anytime soon.’ Following more fan’s voices, cracks, and mumbling, Udai traveled to the right side. 

‘How do we explain something that took us by surprise.

Promises in vain, love that is real but in disguise.

What happens now,

Do we break another rule?

Let our lovers play the fool.

I don't know-how.

To stop feeling this way.

Hold on to the nights.

Hold on to the memories.

I wish that I could give you something more.

That I could be yours.

Well, I think that I've been true to everybody else but me.

And the way I feel about you makes my heart long to be free.

Every time I look into your eyes, I'm helplessly aware.

That the someone I've been searching for is right there.’ 

( **A/N:** Song, “Hold On to the Nights” by Richard Marx)

Along with everyone else, Udai stood there, mind blown and temporarily stunned. The person who sang knew the sentimental lyrics, word by word. Out of curiosity, I stared into the crowd in search of the individual. I realized that the angelic voice belonged to Hinata. 

Out of endearment, Udai proceeded to ruffle Hinata’s wild, orange locks once, and while singing, he returned to the stage. 

‘Now that I think of it, I never saw Kageyama interact with Hinata in middle or high school. They were never in the same classes. That’s so odd. While in  high school, the other occurrence I had with Hinata was where?...’

As I passed by at the auditorium, sometimes I would stop and pull off my headphones to listen to his singing in secret. However, one day, his voice never made another appearance. ‘What happened?’

“Kei, can you take this up to the faculty office, please,” the biology teacher said, pointing at the box on his desk.

“No problem.” At times, I may be a salty prick, but I know my limitations. I then lugged the heavy box up of binders and files up the flight of stairs. ‘Ugh... exercise.’ As I arrived at the foot of the office door, I heard two voices and automatically stopped. ‘Hinata?’

“Shouyou,” the advisor hesitated, “I'm a bit surprised that you’d suddenly stopped showing up to the music club. You’re a senior; this is your 4th year. This experience would be a positive addition to include in your admission letters for colleges. Didn’t you tell me you wanted to pursue music and become a singer? Is there anything wrong? The members also miss you a lot. ” 

There was a brief silence, and next, he calmly answered, “I was diagnosed with a type of benign vocal cord lesion, polyps. I’m going to get surgery after graduation. It’s a difficult time for me. I can’t see music the same anymore. I’m sorry.” 

“Goodness gracious, I’m so sorry to hear that. Though, I hope you’re able to get proper treatment.” 

“Don’t worry, it’s not permanent,” Hinata reassured. “I’ll get over it.”

“You know, you might still be able to pursue a career in music. From what I know, you’ll be able to recover since it's a non-cancerous and common, curable condition. Many singers have faced it. Compared to the past, the procedure methods and technology have improved greatly. I’m sure the surgery will go well; until then, don’t strain your voice,” the teacher consoled. “Don’t give up on your dreams just yet.” 

“Right,” Hinata said, “well, I better get going. Thank you, Sensei. Best regards.” Hinata slightly opened the door ajar to exit, and his eyes widened when he saw me; however, instead of yelling at me for eavesdropping, he simply smiled and left to go down the stairs to the second floor. ‘It wasn’t my imagination. I caught a whiff of heavy **smoke** and **weirdly blueberry**.’ 

The next day, on the rooftop, I met with Yamaguchi to have lunch and overheard their conversation. 

Nishinoya asked, sniffing Hinata’s shirt. “You straight-up smell like cigarettes, bruh,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust, “...and something else.” 

“I do?” Hinata gave a sheepish smile while rubbing his neck. “Sorry, my Father tends to smoke a lot. He likes the ‘Mevius’ brand; the blueberry flavor ones are his favorite. I guess my uniform absorbed the smell.” 

‘His father means...Technically, Kageyama’s Father?’

“Da heck. Blueberry scented ones exist?” Nishinoya sighed. “Anyways, you’re Father shouldn’t be smoking in front of you like that...I mean, sorry to judge! As a friend, I’m just concerned with your health and all!”

“It’s okay. I respect your opinion! I also feel the same,” Hinata laughed. “Here, try this. I made this in cooking class.” He held his spoon up to Nishinoya’s mouth. 

“Kei?” I snapped out of my thoughts and turned to Akiteru, who was waving his hand in front of my face. ‘Law School, especially the Bar Exam and “bickering” with Kageyama throughout the university, and presently wiped my memory.’

“Ah...Sorry, what were you saying again?” 

“I told you to lay off the insults about Kageyama in front of Hinata. Truthfully, I don’t know the status or terms of their relationship, but spare him.” 

“Alright, I will try,” I sighed. “If Hinata’s not here, which he isn’t. I’ll speak my mind. Akiteru, you do know that I’m only salty when it comes to Kageyama? As a prosecutor, debating gets heated in court; however, off the court, I am generally on good terms with the opposition or other criminal defense attorneys. In our law firm, we have a sense of camaraderie. I always act cordial and professional. However, he's a complete hard-ass in court, which I can tolerate.” ‘I barely can tolerate it.’ “However, off the court, the man’s a complete asshole...Let me judge all I want. Now that I think of it, where is he?” 

“Maybe he’s running late?” Akiteru suggested, lightly bonking my head. “Try not to stress out, Kei.” 

“What kind of ass-hat runs late to his brother’s wedding,” I grumbled. “Don’t tell me he’s working at the ‘ _Schweiden Alders’_ law firm right now? That piece of work—”

“Tenma!” Akiteru abruptly yelled before running and swinging him around. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.” 

“Same. Call it a miracle. I just changed flights,” Tenma grinned. “Hey there, Kei. I got souvenirs.” 

In the middle of the horde of elites, they were hugging each other like today was doomsday. ‘These two have no shame. I don’t know what shocks me more. The fact that Kageyama and Hinata are non-biological brothers or my brother is married to the well-loved lead singer of ‘The Little Giant,’ Tenma Udai. Ugh, I feel an oncoming migraine.’ 

“Hurry and leave. You love birds,” I said, walking away from the sight of PDA. “See you guys at dinner tonight.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: All those references from the first fic I wrote. *Sprinkles Salt*  
> -Happy Holidays!


	3. Warning! Dinner Pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: The subject of murder and graphic violence will be discussed in this chapter!  
> Warning#2: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

**Hinata’s POV: **PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS IN THE BEGINNING NOTES!****

“Dinner?” I gazed up from my Mac computer in confusion and stopped typing.

“Yes, let’s grab dinner together,” Hoshiumi, the paralegal, suggested, resting his head onto my modern “L” shaped reception desk. “Let’s go with everyone, Hinata! I’m starving!” 

“Did everyone clock out yet?” Office manager Fukurou Hirugami questioned with a loud voice. “Is everyone ready to go?” He walked toward us while shoving his arm into the sleeve of his double-breasted khaki trench coat. 

In the _Schweiden Alders'_ office, the rest of the colleagues yelled a unison, “Yes!” 

“Ah...the time!” I quickly saved and shut down my computer. I then entered the back room and held my I.D. to the time machine, and soon after, I placed the white, gold, and navy blue lanyard over my head. 

“Hinata.” I jumped at the sudden contact. “Try not to overwork yourself. As of late, you’ve been working overtime. More often than usual. It’s not the peak of the work season; it’s only Spring. Sometimes you need to take a break and head home early for once.” Hirugami released his grip from my shoulder and ruffled my hair. “Now, let’s go eat!” He ushered me out from the building and proceeded to lock up the firm. 

“I’ll be leaving first.” Kageyama bowed to Suzaku, the firm’s founder, then to everyone else, and soon, he left in the direction of where the garage was. I stood there in silence, watching him enter his navy Chevrolet Corvette, and for a split second, his dull blue, lackluster eyes met with me before he drove off. Nothing has changed, I thought, turning away. 

“He never joins the team building dinners,” Hirugami sighed, shoving his silver keys into his pocket. “No matter how I try to convince him. He always refuses.” 

“At least, he attends the conferences, committee meetings, and the seminars at the Japan Federation of Bar Associations (JFBA),” Suzaku acknowledged, walking along Hirugami’s side. 

Romero, one of the senior-level attorneys and second oldest, chimed in. “Sometimes, I see him at the “local elite hotspots” or parties; however, I rarely see him go out of his way to interact and socialize with people.” 

Heiwajima, another attorney, nodded in agreement. “Kageyama has potential and is well versed in law even though he’s still an associate in training. Perhaps over time in the process of gaining more experience, after meeting more clients, prosecutors, attorneys, etc., he’ll change.”

Suzaku then mentioned, “I’m sure he will. He needs the right push in the right direction. His mother, who was a top-notched attorney before she retired, became more friendly over time. They act and look quite similar. Ha. Ha. Back in university, I was her senior, and she never reached out to anyone unless it was strictly for work or assignments. On her phone, back in the day, she saved me as “Classmate #2” instead of my name.” 

Sokolov, the hired investigator, shook his head in disapproval. “Maybe he just needs some of Hinata’s magic,” he joked, patting the top of my head. “Or perhaps he’s short of love,” he teased, “...After all, love changes people.” 

“Just ‘cause you're the tallest here,” I said, folding my arms. “If I were a magician, I'd make you disappear.” 

In return, laughter erupted, and out of nowhere, Hoshiumi linked arms with me. “Let’s hurry! I can’t stand it anymore!” We then skipped down the street while the others trailed after us. “Yakiniku, here we come!” 

“You, two,” Suzaku heaved. “Must be nice to be still young,” he gasped, collapsing into the black banquet chair. 

“We’ll have the family sets A and B,” Hiragumi ordered, handing the menu back to the waiter.

“You’re out of shape, boss,” Sokolov remarked with a grin.

“I ought to fire you,” Suzaku grunted, reaching for his glass of water, “but your investigative work is beyond exceptional.” 

“Tschhhhhhhh.” We all turn our heads in search of the eerie, static noise. On the wall, there was a mounted TV; the screen became pixelated. 

Sokolov then commented, “This is the cue for _The Grudge_ to come crawling out.” 

I gulped nervously. ‘Horror movies, including thrillers, were not my forte. I will never understand how people find joy, laughter in being scared.’ I shivered at the thought of being forced to watch such frightening scenes.‘Not that crap again. I'll-' 

Suddenly, the chimes went off, and there was a loud bang as the door backed into the wall. “Table for two pl-” The waitress shrieked in horror as a tall, lanky man with long drenched hair made his appearance. 

“What in the ‘Rolling Thunder’ is going on here!” Nishinoya peered behind Azumane’s broad shoulders with an inside out, broken umbrella. His mostly black hair, partially dyed blonde bangs, was flattened due to the rain. 

“Sorry about that, Ms.,” Azumane murmured, flipping his wet, glorious brown hair back, revealing a slightly pink face. 

“Are you filming a shampoo commercial? Are you sponsored by Pantene or something?” Nishinoya huffed, drying his mocha-colored laced boots at the ‘WELCOME’ carpet before placing his damaged umbrella at the designated rack. “I told you we should've taken the taxi here. But nooo…” 

In the middle of the commotion, I subconsciously drowned out the ongoing conversation; however, Hoshimui pulled me out. “You okay?” 

I nodded a ‘yes’ and released the grip I had on the front placket of my white dress shirt. “I just need a minute...” I then shifted my attention back to the charcoal grill, where a medley of mushrooms, green shishito peppers, and other vegetables began to slightly brown. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m fine,” I nodded once more before answering, “I was just startled; that’s all.”

In retrospect, I would be lying if I said my biological parents’ death did not affect me to this day. As a full-fledged adult, the loss came with fleeting moments of paranoia, anxiety, and unwanted, realistic-like nightmares. ‘Loud noises don’t always correlate with gunshots. Stop exaggerating. Don’t freak out!’ Out of sheer habit, I fidgeted the hem of my cloud-gray tailored blazer with my hands and lightly grazed over the exterior flap pockets. ‘Don’t smoke either.’ However, these self-reminders were futile. 

“What impeccable timing,” Sokolov said with an incredulous look. He then inspected the restaurant’s commercial aluminum front windows. “Now, if an actual roll of thunder comes. I’ll be floored. Seriously, what are the chances?” 

“Don’t jinx it,” Hirugami interjected, “...besides, our cars are back at the garage. We walked here. Remember?” His then face darkened. “I want my walk to be peaceful, not to be in pieces.” 

Sokolov let out great rolling laughter. 

I lifted my eyes from the grill in surprise, and still, in the entranceway, I met with Azumane’s pleading, deep brown eyes. 

“Long time no see, Senpai!” I greeted loudly, waving at him. 

Nishinoya then whipped his head around. “My favorite underclassman! Shouyou!” 

In the back, before pointing at me, Azumane mouthed a silent ‘Thank you,’ and I let out a slight laugh. ‘It’s like high school all over again.’ 

Nishinoya, my long time friend since school, was a bit temperamental and needed to express his emotions right there and then. It didn't matter who the person was, whether they were intimidating or not; the tallest or bulkiest fellow, he held his ground. Although he deemed it troublesome, it was one quality of his I admired the most because I had an unfortunate tendency to waver under people.

“I envy you,” I admitted while staring out at the cloudless and vibrant sky in front. “Thank you for the advice, Senpai... I’ll miss you.” 

For a few seconds, Nishinoya’s mouth was agape. “You can’t randomly confess that on the school rooftop! B-Besides I-I should be thanking you, Shouyou!” He was flustered. 

“Did someone say confession?” Tanaka’s head popped from the corner of the stairwell building. Then three more heads popped underneath. It was Ennoshita, Kinoshita, Narita. Next, Azumane stepped out, scratching his head with an apologetic look. 

“You guys…” Nishinoya said, gritting his teeth, “have you heard of the word, R-E-S-P-E-C-T?! I swear Shouyou is the only one-” 

“RUN! Raichu, the motherfucking _Pokémon_ is going to thunderbolt us into oblivion!” Tanaka shouted, wildly opening the door. The rest of them followed suit, and along with the joyous laughter, a chase began to ensue down the stairs.

I held my hand up to silence my tenuous giggle, and I briefly thought to myself, I’ll miss this. 

“Is the coast clear?” On the opposite corner, I saw two pairs of heads peek behind the wall. This time, it was Sawamura and Sugawara.

I shook my head at them. “Aren’t you two supposed to be the responsible ones?” I then turned away to giggle out loud, and as I leaned over the parapet to watch the moving horde of black graduation caps. I soon spotted Nishinoya, Tanaka, and everyone else lined up side by side, kneeling and holding their ball fists up in the air as the scariest teacher on our high school campus proceeded to scold them.

Now, thinking back, I miss all of them, the ‘ _Karasuno’_ members. Like a murder of crows, we all unexpectedly flock together very well. As Tanaka once said, ‘We were all fucking level-headed elites.’ Even after graduation, even after we headed to different universities, started work, we never lost contact with each other. The private group chat we shared was always lively. To be honest, I considered them to be like my second family—another support system who also kept me going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: *Crawls out of the TV* So, which character speaks to you so far? Tanaka? Poor Azumane? Nishinoya?


	4. Warning! End of Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: The subject of murder, sexual-related humor, and graphic violence will be discussed in this chapter!  
> Warning#2: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

**Hinata’s POV: **PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS IN THE BEGINNING NOTES!****

“The two musketeers unite!” Nishinoya announced while back hugging me. He then released his hold, and with Azumane, they pulled up chairs to sit at our table. 

Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the restaurant, three men were conversing privately in the booth. 

“I feel like I’m supposed to be a part of a different group.” 

“Yaku, you are spouting complete fucking rubbish,” Yamamoto grunted, flipping the thick slices of _hire_ or beef tenderloin with his red stainless-steel silicone tongs. “If you are supposed to be a part of another group, then I’m supposed to have a twin. Meaning, the percentage of that happening is low. It's bloody low! And since I was born as a single child; therefore, what you said just now is straight-up impossible.” 

An intense sizzle erupted, and Kozume briefly glanced up from his PSP to observe the grilling. “I agree, ” he said before returning to play his game, “God of War.” 

“After all, one does not merely cross the ‘ _Nekoma’_ Syndicate with his paws. I know, the youngins out here today are all about that _YOLO_ or “You Only Live Once” life but don’t be like that,” Yamamoto said in a low voice. “We have one life, not nine. Plus, if you become a traitor, you would get declawed by you know who. Actually, not by one person, but by many. Cross one person concurrently means cross the rest of us.” 

“Of course, I know that!” Yaku half-exclaimed. “I would never betray our syndicate. I never even thought about it, and if I did, it certainly would be my last,” he answered, rather sternly. “It’s just well,” his voice slowly trailed off, and soon he took another shot of vodka. 

“Just what?” 

“I feel like I’m missing a part of myself, missing something or maybe even someone. Lately, I’ve been having a lot of dreams…” 

“So a wet dream?” Yamamoto asked with a straight face. “Maybe you’re just pent up?” 

Kozume’s jaw dropped, and simultaneously the piece of beef fell out of his wooden chopsticks and onto the white tiles. 

“The meat!” Yamamoto cried, gripping the top of his dyed blonde mohawk. “The precious meat!” 

“Tora...Don’t speak of such topics at the dinner table. I’ll lose my appetite,” Kozume answered with disgust written on his face. 

“Oi, look at your own damn self!” Yamamoto’s voice had hints of irritation. “You’re the one who’s playing games at the dining table. Did anyone ever teach you any manners? Cuz it’s rude.” 

Before Kozume and Yamamoto started to bicker, Yaku warned, “Stop picking fights with each other. You both look like idiots.” However, to his displeasure, they gripped onto each other's collars and kept throwing out vulgar insults. Yaku then threatened, “Don’t make me call Fukunaga to get another bucket of water.” 

Yamamoto and Kozume exchanged looks of terror and immediately agreed on a temporary truce. 

Yaku let out a deep, long sigh as he bent down to pick up the fallen piece of grilled meat with his napkin and placed it aside on the black wooden table. 

“Anyways, Yaku, maybe you miss the feeling of having a “normal life,” Kozume quietly commented, dipping a new piece into a mixture of soy sauce and wasabi. 

While refocusing on the task on hand, the grill, Yamamoto then added, “In our line of work, we can't make regular friends. It will only put them at risk.” 

“I know, I guess you’re right,” Yaku admitted, staring off at the other bustling tables. “Well, my life before joining the syndicate was somewhat “normal,” but it wasn’t anything stellar. I prefer my life now, yet I can’t help but be curious about how my life would be if I lived by the book like an everyday citizen. If I went to college, worked an office job, etc. At the time, the opportunity wasn't there, and it still isn’t. Frankly, for the most part, even if I have all of you guys, I’m still tired of losing friends over X, Y, Z reasons. I miss having a plethora of long-term friends, that’s all, or at least that’s my wish.” He then pointed across, “See, look at that table over there, the young man with his friends. The one with ginger hair and a blinding smile. Doesn’t he seem as if he never faced a single hardship in his life? I want to live that life. You get what I mean?” His words began to slur. 

“The term “normal” can be subjective. However, I completely understand what you’re saying,” Kozume acknowledged, “but you see a “normal” life in an ideal way. Be careful not to get everything mixed up. Regardless, whether you are in a syndicate or not, problems are unavoidable. We could compare struggles all day if we wanted to. Overall, you seem to value an “everyday citizen” in a higher sense. But you know, I have yet to meet a person who hasn’t faced some degree of trouble—that lucky 1 percent, less or none. People who haven’t encountered any issues don’t exist, Yaku.” Subsequently, Kozume turned his head in the direction of where he was staring, and his cat-like eyes widened. “That young man, well, he’s attractive. However, you could be mistaken; people often say, ‘Sometimes the ones who smile the most are the most broken.’”

“I second that,” Yamamoto nodded in agreement. “Even though I’m straight as a ruler. I ain’t afraid to say that man over is a real beauty. Now, Yaku, please stop fucking drinking. I know you on the low-key miss Lev, and you won’t admit that crap till you die, but he’ll come back from his “business trip” from Russia in one more week,” Yamamoto groaned, “My head is about to explode due to the both of you. Stop diving into the philosophy of Mcshitty life. Can’t a man like myself eat grilled meat in peace?” 

“Speaking of peace...I come in peace,” Sokolov said playfully while putting his hands together. 

“Say that again. I dare you,” Nishinoya huffed. Meanwhile, Azumane, sitting in the next seat, was sweating. He kept sending me glances of ‘Please control, Nishinoya.’ 

“It was merely a mistake, but since you requested. Instead of the two musketeers, don’t you mean the three ‘Mouseketeers?’” Sokolov said, throwing his head back in laughter. “I guess Hoshimui can join you two.” 

Hoshimui shot an unimpressed look at Sokolov. “You’re just like my older brother, Akitomo, tall and annoying.”

All three of us had a short complex. It was somewhat of a first-world problem we had. Nonetheless, everyone knew it, and even in our adulthood, we still get teased for it. I sighed. ‘My growth spurt had to end early. At least, I have Hoshimui and Nishinoya in my life to relate. Even though they just met, they’re already on the same wavelength.’ I slightly smile. ‘Three musketeers...but why do I get the feeling that we’re missing another member?’

“Yeah, like Hoshimui said.” Nishinoya folded his arms and gave his best, intimidating scowl. “ _Disney_ might sue, you know.” 

“Can they?” Sokolov turned to Romero and Heiwajima for answers. 

“You want a full in-depth answer or a short one?” Romero inquired, raising an eyebrow at us. Heiwajima then informed, “In simple terms, here in Japan, the copyrights laws are-”

I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me. Can I borrow him for a sec?” As I turned up my head, I met with the man’s almond-colored eyes. He then ran his overly embellished jeweled fingers through his spiky blonde hair. 

“Sure, you can borrow him. But, we’ll be watching,” Nishinoya agreed reluctantly. Azumane also had a concerned face. 

I excused myself from the table, and without warning, the man laced his fingers with mine. He then pulled me to a more discrete part of the Yakiniku restaurant. ‘I wonder what he wants with me?’

Meanwhile, back at the table, Sokolov was left flabbergasted. “How many times has it been so far?” He started to count on his fingers. “I swear, every time we go out for our group dinner. In the middle of eating or talking, someone will ask out Hinata.” 

“Nothing has changed, huh,” Nishinoya said, recounting the memories. “Back when we met in high school and throughout, many other students would pull him aside to confess. Just like that.”

Azumane nodded in agreement. “He was the most popular student on our campus. In fact, on Valentine’s Day, when he opened his locker, it was filled at the brim with chocolate. It was to the point where people left their goodie bags outside, and soon, someone decided to be smart. For Hinata’s convenience, they placed a large canvas storage tote.” 

“Wow…” Romero, Heiwajima, Hiragumi, Hoshimui, and Suzaku awed in amazement. Meanwhile, deep inside, they too were wishing to be that sought-after. 

“Did he ever say ‘yes’ to anyone?” Sokolov inquired with a curious tone. As an investigator, he was now putting on his thinking cap. 

“No.” Nishinoya answered, “As far as I can tell, Shouyou never said ‘yes’ to anyone. I don’t know about university, though, but not once had he mentioned he was dating anyone. Then again, I’m sure he would have told us.” 

Azumane then concluded, “It’s unfortunate. Many who cross paths with him now leave with their broken hearts in hand. Those poor souls.” He shook his disapproval. “The worst part is that he’s not aware of the vast attention he gets. Many people were fixated on him. Back then, one of his nicknames was the ‘Oblivious Sunshine.’” 

“Tell us more!” Sokolov was very intrigued. “Tell me more about Hinata’s incredible past!” 

“Ha. ha. Sorry to whisk you away, but I couldn’t help myself.” The man spoke with confidence, and coolly leaned against the wall while eying me up and down. 

For a brief second, in his mouth, I saw a flash of silver. 

“So, what’s your name?”

“Shouyou Hinata. Nice to meet you!” I said, bowing once. “Umm...so is there anything you need?” 

‘Should I give him my business card?’ 

“The way you tilt your head is kinda cute...The name is Yuuji Terushima.” He bowed back, and we exchanged business cards. “But you can call me anything you want. Maybe even your boyfriend." He winked. At the same time, I heard a few people gagging in the background, and in the distance, I saw Nishinoya frowning at us. 

_Teru. Terushima? Yuuji Terushima? Why does that name seem so familiar?_

“I’m the manager here and owner of this Yakiniku chain,” Terushima elaborated. Then he passionately clasped both of my hands. “I would love to take you out some time, Hinata. Will you let me?” 

“Uh, I’m sorry, but I’m engaged,” I answered, breaking away. I nervously rubbed my neck before flashing my hand and pointing at the sterling silver band on my ring finger. 

“You’re engaged?!” Terushima shouted in surprise, and everyone turned their heads at us. 

At that moment, I knew I fudged up.  I suddenly felt a lot of stares, maybe even glares on my back. 

“Damn…I mean congrats,” Terushima sighed, “Well, contact me if you're interested in making business deals, occasions, or stock.” He waved me a quick goodbye and entered the doors of the kitchen. 

Midway through my walk back, there was another blaring, static noise. The T.V. screen blurred from a mixture of gray and white pixels to SMPTE color bars. “Tschhhhhhhh.” Right after, it switched to a news channel. 

  * **Reporter:** “In Miyagi prefecture, Ex-politician, Hikaru Komaki, who pleaded guilty in court for bribery, is now found dead at his residence. The ' _Date Tech'_ Police are in the midst of investigating the matter to see whether it is an isolated or a syndicate related case. As of current, the information is on withhold. If there are any tips, please report them at the hotline, (XXX)-XXX-XXXX.”



After hearing this, I felt chills down my spine. 

“Well, there goes my client,” Heiwajima sighed, hanging his head in shame and frustration. “The world is so unpredictable; it’s scary.” 

Romero tried to console Heiwajima as best as he could. “There’s nothing we can do since this comes with the job. All we can do is hope that justice to be served.” 

“We’ll be back,” Suzaku requested, stand up with a solemn expression. “You, two. Let’s go out for a bit to talk.” The senior attorneys, Heiwajima and Romero, followed suit. 

Hoshimui, Azumane, and Nishinoya exchanged worried and concerned looks.

“Don’t worry about it, guys,” Sokolov said in a calm voice. “They’re most likely discussing their next move for the case and the details along with it. These types of matters are discussed privately. Confidentiality is kept strictly between attorneys’ that’s all,” he assured. 

Finally, when I reached the table, I was bombarded with rapid-fire questions. I scolded myself internally, not to slip up again. 

“You’re engaged? Since when? To whom?” Nishinoya badgered for answers while gripping the sides of his head. “You’re lying. Why didn’t you tell me, Shouyou? Why didn’t you tell us? Sugawara and Sawamura are especially going to have a heart attack if you drop the news like that.” 

At that time, I felt extreme guilt. “Uh...I don’t know. I haven’t met the person yet,” I answered honestly, sitting back down in my chair. Once more, I reminded myself to keep everything to a minimum. 

“Wait a minute. What do you mean?! What the actual f-” Azumane clamped Nishinoya’s mouth and quietly cautioned, “Remember, don’t swear in front of his colleagues. Think of Shouyou’s reputation. Nishinoya, relax, please.” 

“Your parents are setting you up in an arranged marriage?” Sokolov inquired with a baffled look. “You’ve gotta be kidding me? We’re in modern times.”

“Yes. That’s what it is.” I look directly into Nishinoya’s confuzzled eyes. “Sorry for not telling you. It all kind of happened on a whim,” I answered while choosing my words carefully. “I’m going to meet the person in a week.” 

Hoshimui then wondered, “Let’s hope that person is wonderful and equally amazing as you are. But hey, congratulations!” 

“Thank you,” I smiled. “I’m sure that person will be.” However, all I could think at that moment was how sorry I was because I lied again. ‘Another white lie...I didn’t want you to worry about me, Nishinoya. I didn’t want anyone to worry about me. Truthfully, I met the person already. My first initial impression of that person was great... Besides, there’s nothing I can do. No one can do.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: Feel free to drop your predictions in comments on who that might be.  
> I would love to hear it!


	5. Schweiden Adlers' Office-Kageyama's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

**Kageyama’s POV:**

“What do you mean by ‘there’s nothing I can do?!’” I stepped forward with clenched fists. I absolutely knew nothing. I thought I knew everything, still, by the time I realized everything, it was too late, and continuously echoing in the back of my mind was the thought of ‘I’m just like them, those two!’ 

“Why are you holding me back, Boke?! You Dumbass! Shouldn’t you be enraged?! You. You! YOU!” I shouted a slew of profanities. However, Hinata merely tightened his grip onto my wrist, harshly pulled me back, and when I met his amber-brown eyes, I instantly stopped. ‘Why. Why? WHY?!’

A million questions inundated my mind, following forth was regret, and from that day forward, inwardly, I was seething at the sight of them, those two, but especially him. ‘I can no longer look at them in the same way anymore! Nothing looks the same in the light…’

I angrily kicked the trash can aside and continued to shout at the top of my lungs. ‘No book I studied, no book I ever read in my duration of life would prepare me for the onslaught of revelations that left Hinata’s mouth in **November, before his wedding.’**

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Suddenly, there were two distinct taps at the door, and in a sing-song voice, Hinata asked, “‘Do you wanna build a snowman?~’” 

**(A/N:** “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" composed by Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez.) 

“It’s the wrong season. It’s Summer.” 

“Gwah, you’re right! I mean, Knock Knock.” 

“Who’s there?” I asked, not looking up from my messy, document-covered desk. 

“Your favorite star.” 

“My star?” I inquired, breaking away from hours of full concentration. The door opened ajar, and a small hand shot out carrying a 2-cup cardboard drink carrier. Meanwhile, in Hinata’s other hand, he held a canvas tote bag with an imprint of ‘Totoro.’ It was one of the items I recently gifted him on his birthday. 

“Your favorite Star-bucks.” 

“Boke,” I said, shaking my head at him.

‘The Sun is back here again with his questionable yet bright humor. Your creativity never ceases to amaze me, Hinata.’ 

As usual, Hinata entered and asked, “So, how’s the case going?” He then set the venti sized cup with the iconic, green siren logo at the small empty part of my classy, espresso colored desk. “Here, enjoy a cup of ‘Steamed Milk.’ They had a buy one, get one free today.” And with his right hand, he pulled a paper-wrapped ‘Roasted Ham, Swiss & Egg’ sandwich from his eco-bag and handed it to me. 

I eyed him, suspiciously, “You’re lying.”

For a brief second, Hinata flinched at my words. Then he asked, “What do you mean by that?” He soon sat down in the nearest black, leather guest chair and munched on his sandwich once before tilting his head at me in confusion. 

“You said that yesterday, Boke. A ‘Buy one, get one free’ promotion wouldn’t last that long. An entire week is impossible. You’ve paid me enough.” 

‘I can’t believe I never took notice until now!’ I sighed at my relatively slow realization. My mind was too preoccupied with work, and as a result, I missed a lot of essential details that I should have taken earlier. ‘How long has it been? Has it been more than a year? Wow, I don’t even know the time.’ Ever since we started to work at the _Schweiden Alders'_ law firm together, Hinata would frequently drop off breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner except when I was working overseas. In a way, he was my reminder to take a break—my ‘Oronamin C.’ (My Vitamin C.)

I briefly set the sandwich aside and proceeded to grab my navy, Gancini bifold wallet from my back pocket. “As for the case, I’m currently in the middle of reviewing the provided admissible evidence for a disorderly conduct charge for my client,” I answered, folding my arms. “Compared to the other cases I have to examine, this one is rather odd. My client or defendant broke into a popular fast-food chain restaurant when he was highly intoxicated. In cooking his unpaid meal, he committed more property damage by destroying and burning the kitchen. Next, he stole an estimated $400 worth of ingredients: potatoes, frozen chicken, onions, etc. He then got arrested due to the CCTVs, and the trail of food that he led to his apartment. That’s the gist of it, and now I’m here to represent him.”

“That’s crazy!” Hinata exclaimed, holding his right hand up to his mouth to giggle. “Never in a million years did I see that coming. That’s one of many reasons why I don’t drink. I’m afraid I’ll end up like that. Poor guy!” From right to left, Hinata shook his head. “Anyways, Kageyama, as an older brother, it’s my responsibility to take care of you. So, let me treat you!” Then in a quiet voice, he mumbled something I couldn’t quite hear. All I heard was ‘Because one day...’

“Seriously?” I grunted irritably. The bill compartment of my wallet was empty; meanwhile, the card slots were barely full. ‘I forgot that one, I don’t carry cash, and two, I’m somewhat of a minimalist.’

“It’s a sign,” Hinata joked while sipping away at his ‘Pink drink.’ He then offered his cup to me after lightly shaking the strawberry filled contents around. “Do you want to try it? I requested the barista to add coconut instead of regular milk this time. It’s quite good.” 

I cast him a skeptical look. “Impossible. There’s nothing better than good old regular milk.” I soon reached over my desk and got hold of his cup before sighing. “You know, Hinata. You can treat me all you want, but you have to let me do the same in return. Well, if I am ever free, that is,” I continued to speak as he gave me his full, earnest attention. 

‘Honestly, when’s that the last time I had a vacation? A break for myself? All I did was study, work, and nothing else.’

I rhythmically tapped my four fingers along my desk in contemplation. “I don’t want to be the one who is accumulating debt. Do you understand? Besides, you’re only older than me by a few mere months. No need to baby me.”

In return, Hinata reluctantly nodded in agreement. “I can’t help it sometimes,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. There was a bit of strain in his voice. He soon returned his attention to finishing his sandwich. 

‘That’s right. You can’t help yourself. Maybe I’m too much? No, I need to put my foot down.’ 

Suddenly I was reminded of the past when I misunderstood Hinata’s intentions. Back when we first met in middle school, I initially thought he was using me to fill his void for his sister, Natsu. He was overly affectionate, and it caught me off guard. It was as if I was an “offspring” in a crow’s nest. Therefore, I deliberately and intentionally would leave and push him away. Compared to other species of birds or even people, Hinata never chased me out nor caged me in retaliation. I quickly realized that one, I’m not remotely like Natsu, two, I was a cold-hearted, prideful bastard, and three, like that salty asshole of a prosecutor, Tsukishima said, ‘I’m disgustingly and emotionally constipated.’ 

I also realized that Hinata acted in the same genuine, selfless, and cooperative manner with everyone. It was naturally in him, while to me, it was unnatural behavior. Amongst everyone else, I was the odd one out, not Hinata.

As I continued to dwell on the past, another memory made its appearance, but a more recent one. 

One night, an unexpectedly drunk Hinata showed up at my apartment. Hoshimui carefully took Hinata’s arm off his shoulders and passed him to me. 

Hoshimui started to apologize. “Uhhhhh, where do I even start? I don’t know where Hinata lives. I know he doesn’t live with you, but your apartment was the closest, so I thought, well, no one else is picking up their phones or has any idea. Sorry to intrude without proper notice, but I need to get going.” 

As I held Hinata between my arms, I shot out my question. “I know you're in a rush, but what exactly happened? Hinata doesn’t drink, so why?”

‘Back in school and still now, Hinata’s nickname was goody-two-shoes. Based on my knowledge, he wasn’t interested in smoking or drinking. I never once saw him participate in any of those activities. He’s too straight-laced.’

“So, what happened?” I demanded rather impatiently, checking my ‘Classic Bayswater’ Daniel Wellington watch. “It’s only 5 P.M. Did you two ditch work or something? Better tell me the truth.” 

Hoshimui nervously laughed. “Hinata poured himself a cup of cherry Coca-Cola from the employee’s break room fridge. He was curious about the flavor and well when he downed it. Uhhhh. It turned out to be red wine.” 

“Who in the h-” 

Before I could even utter my rant, Hinata’s mumbling interrupted me. “I’m hungry. I want steamed buns. Fluffy Mcfluffy meat buns. The fluffier, the better. If you tell me the recipe, I’ll marry you. Or we can become bestie friendz. Dinner pleeeeasseee.” 

“Oh, never mind. Anyway, thanks, Hoshimui. See you tomorrow,” I said before shutting the door. ‘When I find out who...Honestly, who does that? It’s irresponsible, and seriously why in a Coca-Cola bottle of all things?’ Now, I was questioning the existence of life. ‘People are weird.’ 

I lugged a flushing, stumbling Hinata to the sofa to lie down; meanwhile, he kept squinting his eyes at me. “Kageyama?” He kept slurring his words as he spoke, and it was clear to me that he disorientated. “You’re a lightweight,” I scolded, shaking my head at him. “Stay away from the alcohol.” 

‘Am I an idiot? I don’t know what compelled me to conversate with you when you were drunk as hell. It’s not even your fault. Hinata, what am I going to do with you?’ 

Hinata soon shifted his attention to the white ceiling, and as if reaching for the stars, he threw his right, open hand up.

Then in a soft-spoken voice, he said, “My lover...My Fiancé... Fiancée?”

Soon after, he slowly closed his hand, made a fist, and randomly and passionately started to sing. 

‘Are you all right now? It was quite tough.

Our ending was just a farewell.

But it was quite tough for us.

I heard about you at times.

Are you already dating?

Someone nice?

Someone told me about you...

Do you love him? to be honest, I can’t bear it.

I wish you would have a tough time too.

Just one-tenth of the pain I’m feeling.

I’m in pain; please be happy.’

( **A/N:** “I Like It” by Yoon Jong Shin)

As I sat down at the edge of the cushion, I naturally tap my fingers along my knee to his melodic yet harsh and rasping voice. ‘Over the course of time, your voice surely has changed, huh? When we were younger, you would often sing wherever you went, and now it’s a rare occurrence.’ While pondering to myself, unknowingly, I missed the flicker of pain that painted across Hinata’s face. ‘The lyrics seemed somewhat bittersweet and sentimental too.’

Abruptly Hinata stopped singing, and he narrowed his eyes at me. As if finally registering my presence, they fluttered wide open.

“Hey, Tobio.” 

“Yes?” 

Subsequently, my ears twitched at being referred to my first name. 

“I’m glad that I got to meet you.” 

“Why is that?” I turned my head to look at him. 

“You’re my younger brother. I always wanted a brother. I mean, I love Natsu, but I also love you,” Hinata said with seriousness and conviction. “I want to protect you from everything. Is that so wrong?” 

I was left speechless at his words. 

Hinata then continued to confess, “Even if you're not related to me by blood. You mean the world to me! You both mean the world to me!” He then lightly grasped my hand while lying down. “I think I’ll be sad. I might even cry! I hate crying, though.”

“Why will you be sad?” 

“Because one day, you’ll leave me behind. Or I’ll have to leave you. My parents left. Natsu left. Then your next, but you know what, I’m okay with it as long as you're happy!” He beamed at me with the brightest grin. 

“You’re too truthful as drunk, Hinata.” I cast my eyes down to the beige carpet. “I’ll order some meat buns. Give me a sec.” 

‘I think I’ll be sad too when that day comes. No, I will be definitely sad.’

I then proceeded to order convenience food from the local Family Mart on the UberEats app. As I resume to reflect, I noticed that the concept of affection and relying on people was very unfamiliar to me; perhaps, I coincidentally was afraid of attachment. I never understood why I thought that way until I got older; my upbringing played a considerable role. Hence why I’m grateful to Hinata. Now looking back, our circumstances on how we met were out of the ordinary. 

As I took a sip, Sokolov, who was randomly there observing us in the doorway for who knows how long, yelled, “Indirect kiss!” 

I immediately started choking. “What did you just say?!” I coughed. “What are you in elementary school?!” As I glanced back at Hinata, he was equally flustered.

Sokolov then sauntered in. “Here.” He handed me a thick document and waltz back out. “Sorry to interrupt your lovely, brotherly moment. Ha. Ha.” He then made a loud announcement in the middle of the hallway, “Everyone, Kageyama has a heart! I saw him hanging with Hinata for once!” The people in the office started to clap. 

“Park yu,” I grunted as Sokolov ran away. “I’m trying hard not to gain that “bad” habit of swearing. If this continues, one day I’ll slip up at work.” 

‘And one day, I’ll bury all of you, especially you, Sokolov. And you too, Tsukishima.’ 

_At the Sendai Frogs law firm, Tsukishima began to sneeze. ‘Is someone talking shit about me?’_

Hinata then interjected, “Sorry, I forgot to lock the door.” He then stood up from his seat, “My break is about to be over.” He soon pointed at my desk. “Kageyama, you need to eat your sandwich or else it’ll get cold. Don’t skip your meals.” 

Instead of leaving right away like usual, he stopped halfway and turned to look me directly in the eye. Today was different. 

“Actually, I need a huge favor. You also practice family law, right?” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“I know you're busy. I know this last minute, but would you help me create a prenuptial agreement?” 

My eyes widened. ‘Hinata changed his mind?’ I initially suggested a prenup agreement, but Hinata was very reluctant. I failed to recall this earlier, but he told me that ‘It felt wrong.’ 

I accidentally went into my default, professional mode. “Of course, I can help you sort and input the clauses you prefer. I’ll inform you when there’s an opening.” 

“Don’t be formal,” Hinata grinned, holding up an ‘okay’ sign.

“Alright, Boke. I’ll text you when I’m free, and don’t even bother paying me. I won’t take it.” 

For the longest, I wanted to repay Hinata for his kindness. For being a great older brother, but I failed miserably. ‘If I knew everything beforehand, would I be able to prevent it? Or is it my fault for not noticing? Dammit, Hinata. You’re one hell of an actor. Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you lie?’

I shut my eyes, and when I opened them. I saw Hinata briefly nod at me before closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: If you’re curious, I do write from experience. About 1% of the story is based on experience. For example, that Coca-Cola incident did happen but not at work, of course. Imagine though. Welp~  
> Thank you for the initial predictions!  
> Anyway, wishing you all a happy, healthy New Year!  
> 


	6. Warning! The Lovely Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: The subject of revenge-porn will be discussed in this chapter!  
> Warning#2: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!  
> Italics=Thoughts!

**Third Person’s POV: CHANGE IN WARNINGS! **PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS IN THE BEGINNING NOTES!****

Down the endless hallway, Hinata was frantically opening doors left and right. _Where?_

He shut the door and rushed to the next one. _Where is…?_

The sound of his white dress shoes click-clacking against the encaustic tile floor was his only accompaniment. 

_Where is she?_

He then hastily jerked the cast iron twisted pull and entered the private waiting room. 

“Why haven’t you been answering my text messages? Where were you?” Hinata inquired, shutting the door behind him. “We are already behind schedule. The ceremony was supposed to start 30 minutes ago. Everyone is waiting for us.” He then leaned against the stone wall, and when he met his reflection in the white, full-length tri-fold mirror, he immediately cast his eyes away. 

_I can’t stand it. Then again, I don’t have a choice. Do I?_

As Hinata stood there patiently waiting for a response. A sense of dread overcame him. He then began to fidget and outline the exterior pocket of his jacket. 

_Should I go out for another smoke? I never finished the first cigarette. No, Hinata. It’s not the time._

“Has it actually been 30 minutes? I didn’t notice,” she answered nonchalantly while fixing her blonde, short hair in the mirror. “I’m pretty sure that I set a few alarms on my Samsung Galaxy. Why didn’t it notify me?” She sauntered to the sectional chaise sofa with grace and grabbed it to check from across the room. “Oh, looks like the battery ran out.” She thus proceeded to show me the dark, blank screen. 

“At noon, the Cathedral’s central tower clock chimed off. Did you not hear it?” Hinata then pointed to the embroidered metal wall clock where it was tic-rocking. “Did you not see it?” As he stepped closer, he narrowed his eyes at her to study her. 

“You…”

She interjected him, “It was an accident, I swear.” She soon began to sniffle with a guilty expression. “I just want to look my best.” 

“Right,” Hinata hesitated, “I’m not upset, so please don’t cry.” He reluctantly apologized. 

_Why do I feel like the bad guy? Am I one? Why do I feel so guilty? Am I the one at fault?_

Hinata was now wavering. However, shortly, he continued, “I was worried about you; that’s all.” 

However, deep inside, Hinata was withholding a lot more than he intended. His pushover personality, unfortunately, got the best of him. 

_Even though it's our time to shine, our wedding, a _da_ y where we can be selfish, a part of me believes there are limitations. We have no right to act rude. All our guests, friends and family are waiting for us. We still have to act courteous, or no one will take us seriously. Don’t you know your own mother is upset right now? _

Hinata bit down his lip before emphasizing once more. “Again, I’m not mad at you. I believe you.” Through a smile, he provided her assurance. Truthfully, he was lying. 

_Oddly, I feel like crying too. Is there no way out? I think, no, I know I’ll regret everything, especially this. I've been feeling like this from the start._

She nodded in agreement before looking up at him with watery, brown eyes. 

“Hitoka Yachi, you’re shameless.”

Subsequently, Hinata looked straight back, and he placed his hand along her neck and lightly caressed down to her exposed clavicle. 

_You are entirely shameless_.

“What do you mean?” Yachi asked, placing her hands on her hips. Her voice held an accusatory tone, but as per usual, I dismissed it. “I know you’re in love with me but stop obsessing over me. It’s disgusting and creepy, Shouyou. Besides, don’t you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony.” 

“You’re shamelessly beautiful,” Hinata conceded, pressing his thumb into her dry skin with a faint smile. “So beautiful, I could cry just about now.” He leaned forward and gently kissed the top of her forehead. “Hitoka, don’t worry about it. You’re talking about an old superstition.” 

“Oh, you think so,” Yachi said, smiling back. She twirled the sparkling veil with her index finger, and her cheeks were now decorated with rosy pink. Likewise, like a repetitive cycle, flattery diffused the situation. 

“Yes, I know so,” Hinata reassured, and for one last time, he traced the purple, red bruise-like markings along Yachi’s neck. 

_No shame at all._

“I’ll head out first. See you soon,” Hinata grinned. However, by shifting his eyes away, he accidentally made contact with the mirror and flinched. After all, the expression he was carrying in the mirror was not the same. He quickly exited, and again, he was greeted by the ribbed vaults that were drawing Xs from above. 

_Even the ceiling’s architecture is telling me ‘no.’_

Hinata sighed, and in silence, he made a brisk walk back to the main room. Before entering, in front of the polish wooden door, like his bowtie, he pulled out a matching bubblegum pink handkerchief and removed the makeup residue from his fingers. 

_At least try. Try to hide them properly..._

Hinata begrudgingly unlocked the doors; the cacophonous sound of tittle-tattle, boisterous laughter invaded his ears as he tried to navigate amidst the sea of well dressed, high profile yet at the same time, unknown elites. After all, the majority in attendance were strangers to him, nor was he the one who invited them. He, himself, was technically defined as an elite through the association of name and “status,” but not by blood. 

As he resumed his walk down the pristine cathedral’s nave, he noted the ornate decorations and artistic murals that graced the walls up to the second floor’s loft. In the middle of one of the fundamental, pointed arches, he saw a distant figure.

_Is he waving at me? Or…?_

Hinata squinted his eyes, but to no avail; it was difficult to tell. Out of politeness, he waved back. 

Soon, the ceremony began. First off, there was a procession, in which Yachi’s immediate family walked down the aisle. Soon after, the groomsmen, the paired bridesmaids, flower girl, ring bearer, and lastly, Yachi’s mother, Madoka, escorted Yachi to Hinata.

Presently, at the altar, Hinata was standing at the podium, face to face with Yachi. He stared up at the intricate gothic tracery, which outlined the circular, prominent, and ethereal rose window for a final time. The light rays that enter the mainly purple stained glass shone on both of them. The moment was magical. 

Subsequently, the officiant then bestowed a few words of welcome:

“I have the privilege of performing this momentous ceremony today on behalf of Shouyou Hinata and Hitoka Yachi. They both thank and welcome your attendance. As a matter of fact, they are thrilled to be able to share their own personal joy with you all. Before we initiate this wonderous process of uniting them, we have a few special opening readers. The first is Yachi’s mother, Madoka. You may now speak first.” 

**Madoka:** “To my daughter, Hitoka, as a kid, you used to be painfully shy when it came to people but look at yourself now. You are no longer a bud, but a blossoming flower, a compassionate go-getter. As I watched, you change and develop. To me, you're still my little girl. Regardless, I can’t help but notice how much you matured and independent you have become. I’m proud of you, and you should also be proud. I’m pleased and grateful that you were able to find happiness.” She then turned to face Hinata. “As for your soon-to-be husband, Shouyou, I am also thankful to you for encouraging and supporting Hitoka to strive to be better and to go reach her dreams. I couldn’t ask for a better son-in-law. Now, welcome to the family.”

Hinata gradually paled at Madoka’s words. All he could have at the moment was how sorry he was. 

**Officiant:** “Thank you for the insightful, meaningful speech. For our next speaker, we have the best man, Nishinoya. You may now speak.” 

**Nishinoya:** “I speak on behalf of the groomsmen. We are delighted to be here to witness such a beautiful and sweet moment. After all, in life, marriage is a very precious and important step. Now, as a close friend, I’m also truly…” he started to rub his eyes. “After all that has happened to you in the past, all the hardships you have faced, I’m genuinely happy that you found happiness. Now, I wish both the best and to last forever.” 

Nishinoya began to cry uncontrollably, and Azumane tried to console him. 

After several more heart-wrenching readings, the officiant gestured to the large, white projector screen. 

**Officiant:** “Now, I present to you the story on how Shouyou and Hitoka met.” 

Through a PowerPoint, a slide show of their fond memories or photos began to play. 

Meanwhile, Hinata’s gaze never left the screen as he began to reminisce, at the time, the favorable memories. 

_Our first date… Hitoka and I went to Disney. We were smiling together in sheer happiness with Mickey Mouse ears on our heads. Now, we are eating by the beautiful seaside, at the mall, go-karting._

One by one, each photo triggered a concurrent memory. 

“If I could reach the stars with my hand, I would give it to you without a second thought,” Hinata confessed, holding a large bouquet of pink peonies.

Yachi only laughed in his face. “How mediocre.” 

After numerous photos of them dating, soon, Hinata was proposing on one knee with a pink velvet box in hand. 

_The happiness was short-lived. I was an empty shell, a paid actor. I tried so hard to make this arrangement work, to win her love and impress her. To force me to fall in love and when I knew very well, I couldn’t do it. Initially, I was optimistic, hopeful, and thought settling down wouldn’t be difficult. I was so wrong. I also think I’m gay, for crying out loud, yet I simply haven't found anyone to explore my sexuality with! I was barred and fixated with everything else in my life. Therefore, I’m not 100% certain. Now, I’m standing here like a damn fool, wasting away at life._

_If only she were the right person. I thought she was, but I was thoroughly mistaken, and as if I was worthless, she threw away my trust, my everything. I knew it was over when I saw the contents on her phone. There was a_ _long list_ _of men she was having an affair with._

_How could you cheat on me? Was I worth anything to you? Was I not enough? Her kind, compassionate demeanor was a facade. Her acting all flustered and nervous was one too. My pride was severely hurt and trampled on._

“Hitoka, how could you do this to me!” Alone in his car, Hinata was banging his hand on the steering wheel in a fury; however, no tears left him, only anger. Meanwhile, as the betrayal and perish set in, he thought back to Kageyama’s advice about the prenuptial agreement. 

“This will protect your assets if anything goes wrong. You also want to include an infidelity clause?” Kageyama inquired, typing all Hinata’s requests into a document. 

“Yes,” Hinata confirmed without hesitation. “I most definitely want that.” 

_Previously, I thought it was unnecessary and somewhat of a “pitiful concept” since it gives the impression that you think less of your spouse. You value money before anything else. Maybe you're insecure about your commitment or relationship. Now I understand the logic behind it._ _Unfortunately,_ this prenup led to more complications…

“Don’t you dare hand Hitoka that paper,” Kageyama’s Father roared, ripping the agreement in half. “Don’t disgrace our name! I don’t want to hear it!” 

Hinata’s recollection cut short when he heard quiet sobbing. As he turned to the seated crowd, he saw a familiar blonde man in the second row. They made eye contact for a split second, and the man conveyed him an “okay” sign when he was clearly not. 

_Ahh, Mr. Close-Cropped Hair, Yuuji Terushima. He was one of the men saved in Yachi’s phone. Another victim...I pity him, and I’m sure he pities me too._

Back in the reception room, in which Hinata was greeting guests. Terushima temporarily, discreetly pulled him aside. 

“Hey there, again. Long time, no see,” Terushima said less confidently. “I didn’t realize you're the one marrying Yachi. This is really, really awkward, but I need to tell you something. Or I can’t live with myself.” 

Before Terushima could apologize, Hinata interjected, “You don’t need to tell me. I already know about her affairs, and

at first, I didn’t recognize you at the restaurant, but now looking back, I realized you were unknowingly a part of one.” 

Terushima's jaw dropped, and unexpectedly, a few tears dribbled down before a sigh of relief came out. “I thought, but still, I’m so sorry... Initially, I didn’t want to go. I was hurt. Then I saw your name on the invitation, and truthfully, I couldn’t bear it if I didn't tell the truth.” 

“I didn’t know that Yachi invited you to our wedding,” Hinata said, comforting Terushima. “Don’t blame yourself.” However, he kept muttering apologies. 

_Yachi, you are one spiteful and cruel woman. We were both taken advantage of._

“You're still going through it,” Terushima asked while wiping his tears on his gray sleeve. The man was utterly and emotionally distraught. As Hinata watched him cry, he thought to himself. 

_I feel as if I see myself in him...If I cry, I’ll have the same painstaking expression he has. Wouldn’t I? Yet, I don’t want that. Not right now._

Hinata nodded. “Still, thank you for telling me. It must have been hard. I bet you loved her as I did, but I hope you’re able to find someone who is better.” 

Then on the projector’s screen, a video of Hinata launched. 

“Hitoka! I love you!” Hinata declared while smiling. He shaped his arms into a big heart. “Can’t wait for our wedding!” 

Then the next clip cut to her, and in a fuchsia beach dress, Yachi uttered, “I l-love you, S-Shouyou too!” She then made the same heart.

There was another video in the next slide; however, it didn't play for some reason. 

**Officiant:** “Technical difficulties. One moment everyone.” 

The man briskly walked to the desk and clicked on the thumbnail of them making goofy faces and holding out peace signs. He clicked the video, it started to count down, and soon, he returned to his original front spot. 

_1...2…3_

It panned to Yachi sitting on the bed, smiling. 

“Honestly, did you ever love him?” The unknown man asked. “Do you love your boyfriend, Hinata, or me more?” 

“I obviously love you more,” Yachi admitted, throwing her back in laughter. “There’s nothing remotely good about him. He’s short, a try-hard, and fucking lame. I don’t know what people see in him.” She then proceeded to mimic Hinata and mock him. “Look at me! I’m the fucking Sun!” 

“Are you jealous?” The man joked. 

“Of course not,” Yachi answered, shaking her head. “Why would I ever be. He’s only a waste of space. You're more a man than he’ll ever be.” Yachi began to unbutton her shirt. 

Upon hearing this, Hinata snapped out of his paralysis and shot a quick, desperate look at Sugawara, Sawamura, and Natsu in the opposite second row. 

“TAKE HER OUT!” Hinata exploded, turning away from everyone in the seats. “TAKE NATSU OUT NOW!” He was hiding his expression, his pain. 

In alarm and out of fear, Sugawara covered Natsu’s eyes; meanwhile, Sawamura covered her ears. They then quickly rushed her out of the room. 

Hinata’s adrenaline was pumping and as he glared at the screen of Yachi now in her scantily clad, lacey undergarments. In a panic, he frantically searched for the laptop, and soon as he located it, he sprinted across the podium with all his might, ripped it from the wires, and threw it against the tile floor. A loud crack emitted, and simultaneously the audio along with the video cut off. The only thing left was a deafening, uncomfortable silence and horrified, speechless looks. 

Hinata lowered his head in shame, ignored everyone in sight, and unsteadily made his way to Yachi, who was still paralyzed at the spot. 

For one last time, Hinata held her hand with his left. He then drew close to her, and he placed his right hand against her ear and carefully whispered, “I was never obsessed with you, but it seems like others were.” Then Hinata pulled away and handed her Tsukishima’s business card. “I think you need this more than me. Goodbye, Hitoka Yachi.” 

And without looking back, Hinata exited. As he threw the main door, the cold, fresh air greeted him, he then avoided the sitting paparazzi and immediately sprinted to the sidewalk, and with a heavy heart, he flagged a cab.

“Please take me to the nearest international airport. If you can, I am a bit in a hurry,” Hinata said in English, and the driver okayed, speedily driving off. 

_Please hurry. I don’t think I can hold it anymore..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: That was freaking intense. A shitshow, right? How are you feeling? Did you feel any sort of emotion? I honestly hope so because I am. ! *Plays sad instrumental music.*  
> First, I'm sorry to all the Hitoka Yachi fans because I done threw her under the bus. ^^; After a long debate...  
> I initially thought, you know, I would throw in a random name or original character, but Nah.  
> 


	7. Warning! Crime Scene: The 1st Taunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: The subject of murder, graphic violence, a crime scene will be discussed in this chapter!  
> Warning#2: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

**Third Person’s POV: ANOTHER CHANGE IN WARNINGS! PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS IN THE BEGINNING NOTES!**

“I can’t hold it anymore!” 

“Neither can I!” 

“Don’t you fucking dare! Not on the damn evidence, you guys! All of you out now!” 

Back in the precinct in Miyagi, Japan, three men were rushing out of the house, and they split into three completely different directions. Subsequently, they ended up projectile vomiting on the spot. 

“Well, there goes my breakfast,” Sakunami groaned before slowly moving away from the green bush and sinking to the ground. He then closed his eyes and contorted his face as the aftertaste or the remnants of acid reflux remained in his throat and mouth. “Maybe I should skip breakfast from now on? I literally lost my appetite. Maybe even permanently. It’s the second time already. From then now on, how many times will it be?”

“I-I can’t u-unsee that,” Koganegawa uttered, clamping his face with his two large hands. “My eyes. My poor eyes.” His whole body shook violently. At this exact moment in life, he saw his first major crime scene. Now, handing people speeding tickets on the local highway was nothing in comparison. Any amount of preparation, training, studying of criminology at the police academy, or bracing himself beforehand was futile. He then realized that becoming an officer was far from ideal, and he started to have second thoughts about his career choice. 

Meanwhile, Fukiage at the concrete sidewalk was gagging. “That crap is going to haunt me.” Soon, waves of onset nausea overcame him as he leaned against the utility pole for support. “I definitely need therapy for this.” 

Soon after, several other people stepped out. However, the majority remained on the porch. 

“You three officers are a bunch of-” **Detective** Kamasaki cut off **Captain** Futakuchi. 

“Don’t act as if you've never done that before,” Kamasaki interjected. “Back when we just joined Date Tech, when we were both officers, you were the one who threw up your guts first. The only person who didn’t throw up in our group at the time,” he pointed, “...was level headed, **Detective** Aone over there.”

“Fucking incorrect. The reason why I vomited was because you were the one who VOMITED ON ME,” Futakuchi emphasized. “Don’t you remember that shit?” He shivered. “Crime scenes are “alright,” but visually seeing vomit and sensing that shit is plain gross. I simply puked because it was out of “sympathy” for YOU.”

In between the argument, Aone was tending the officers by handing them pocket-sized, aloe vera scented Kleenex wet wipes. Typically, he carried these wipes for his seasonal allergies in Spring; however, he quickly noticed having them at hand all the time was better and convenient. 

Aone then calmly crouched down to meet Koganegawa’s eye-level, and within his ability, he tried his best to console him. 

“It’s tough,” Aone hesitated, searching for the right words. After all, he was a man of a few words, and still, if necessary, he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

Aone then continued, “Unfortunately, this is a part of the job. However, becoming a police officer saves lives and brings justice to those who can’t. Don’t forget that.” He then stood back up and announced, “This applies to you two as well.” 

As a result, in unison, Sakunami, Koganegawa, and Fukiage nodded in agreement and recollected themselves. 

Afterward, Aone glanced back to the porch where Futakuchi and Kamasaki were, and he noticed that someone was missing. “Where is **Commander** Moniwa?” he questioned rather loudly. 

Immediately, Futakuchi and Kamasaki exchanged alarm looks and stepped back inside the house. 

“Oh, my fucking G, he fainted!” Futakuchi shouted. “Not this shit again!” 

On cue, the ambulance arrived when Futakuchi was performing CPR. The medical personnel and the paramedic took away Moniwa and sped off to the hospital with Kamasaki inside. 

Futakuchi let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Note to self, check the scene before letting the Commander see.” At full force, he then facepalmed himself for his stupidity. “Why do I keep forgetting?! Now, if the **Chief of Police** , Oiwake, finds out, he’s going to give me an earful for being irresponsible.” 

Aone only shook his head at Futakuchi’s dilemma. 

Although Commander Moniwa had more experience, was intelligent, had a better temperament, and was a higher ranking officer than Captain Futakuchi. One major flaw was that he was too timid and fainthearted when it came to grotesque scenes. 

After a few more taxing minutes, the **forensic photographer,** Obara, **forensic science technician** , Onagawa, and **medical examiner,** Sasaya **,** arrived at the scene. Meanwhile, the rest of the team waited outside. 

Futakuchi immediately threw his hand across to block the entrance doorway. 

“Remember what I specifically told you three on the phone. It’s one of the most gruesome homicides I have seen yet,” Futakuchi warned before removing his hand. 

Sasaya reassured Futakuchi, “We’ve been doing this for a while. Nothing phases us anymore.” 

Before entering, Onagawa, Obara, and Sasaya follow protocol by putting on the required protective gear: gloves, hairnets, masks or goggles, booties, white jumpsuits, etc., in order to avoid contaminating the isolated evidence. Following suit, Futakuchi and Aone also re-enter to supervise the whole process and situation. 

Back in the kitchen, on the granite countertop, on a large, ceramic white plate laid the victim’s beheaded head. On the walls, blood was splattered all across, and oddly on the ceiling; there were bloody handprints. Later on in the investigation, the victim’s body was uncovered in the attic. 

Futakuchi shook his head at the morbid sight. “Poor guy. I really hope he didn’t get beheaded when he was alive,” he muttered under his breath as the rancid smell of decomposition re-entered his nose. “I'm also glad that his wife called us first before entering the house any further. This would definitely traumatize her to the fullest.” 

Back at the Date Tech station, the wife, now widow, was being interrogated and was in the process of being ruled out. She genuinely seemed to be grieving over her husband’s death and was willing to comply by answering all the questions. 

Aone nodded in agreement and continued to take his own detailed notes of the current scene. 

Futakuchi then asked, “What are your current thoughts on the case? Mind filling me in?"

“Based on my knowledge, the victim is identified as Kazuma Chaya. He worked under the ‘Tokonami’ campaign as the ‘body man’ or a civilian personal assistant under ex-politician Hikaru Konami, who was deceased in the same exact manner a few months prior. As for the status of Konami’s case, the tips that were given led to nowhere, and with the concrete evidence, the case will go cold.” Aone paused to gauge Futakuchi’s response. 

“Are you implying that there is a possibility that those two cases are linked?” Futakuchi’s jaw dropped. “Are you also implying this shit might happen again? It’s going to be one of those cases, isn’t it?” 

Aone nodded a ‘yes’ and continued, “I have a few general theories. The perpetrator(s) is either an incoming serial killer or already is one,” he pointed back at the countertop. “The cut is rather precise. Therefore the perpetrator(s) is highly experienced and intelligent. To reiterate, there was no physical trace of any evidence left behind in both crime scenes, which indicates their wariness. As for the second factor, we need to consider whether the perpetrator(s) is operating by themself(ves), under one of the **six powerful** syndicates or both.” 

Down in Aone’s college-ruled notepad, in alphabetical order was the syndicates: 

  1. Aoba Johsai
  2. Fukurodani
  3. Inarizaki
  4. Nekoma
  5. Nohebi
  6. Shiratorizawa



“Too many syndicates,” Futakuchi grunted, crossing his arms. “How in hell are we going to narrow it down if it is a syndicate related? We barely have any intel on them. Anyway, what if this second case, or Chaya’s case, is unrelated to the first? There’s a possibility that this killer(s) could be copycat.” 

Aone nodded in agreement and looked up from his notepad. “It did cross my mind. Everything could have been a mere coincidence. Therefore, I didn’t rule it out; however, both cases were strictly not released to the public since both victims are high profile. The only information or update that was released by the media was falsified. As of now, the consensus believes that Konami was shot, yet we both know that’s far from the truth.” Aone’s expression began to harden. “Also, the Modus Operandi or M.O. was generally the same, except for the location of the victim’s body. Konami’s was left on the kitchen tile floor in the open. Note that M.O.s are subjected to change; still, the perpetrator’s signature is rather “unique.” We need to wait until the medical examiner, Sasaya, and his team uncovered the rest of Chaya’s body to confirm everything.” 

“You’re right,” Futakuchi sighed, “Then again, who fucking knows. Perhaps this spread of misinformation will lure out the killer(s). It's a rare occurrence, but I can hope the killer(s) slips up.” 

Sasaya then chimed in. “We located the body upstairs in the attic, but it’s completely, tightly wrapped in gray, duct tape.” He furrowed his bushy, arched eyebrows in disapproval at the “inconvenience.” 

Meanwhile, in the background, Sasaya’s team of other medical examiners and staff placed the whole human body into the bag and carefully removed it from the scene. 

“Is there a signature?” Aone inquired, narrowing his dark brown, sharp eyes. 

“Yes, there is. The victim’s canine teeth are missing. Out of 4, the upper two are gone. As for the “injury,” the cut is immaculate rather than messy or jagged. Truthfully, I don’t know what the exact weapon was used, but I’ll inform you if I have an idea. Perhaps, we need to consult with a specialist.” 

“It’s the same as the first case,” Aone commented while mentally trying to draw out everything. 

Futakuchi cringed. “Don’t fucking tell me, the perpetrator(s) are collecting teeth as a trophy-sick memorabilia.” 

In response, Sasaya didn’t exactly deny it. “It’s rather a bizarre signature, isn’t it? Well, luckily, nothing else is missing, but I did find a piece of paper wedged in his teeth.” He then led them to a cardboard box where the forensic science technician, Onagawa, was present.

“Onagawa, mind showing them the evidence?” Sasaya asked, and in return, the man gave the okay. 

“Well, I need to go one, preserve the victim’s body, and two, conduct a full proper autopsy. However, I’ll hand you the report later. If you need anything, just call.” Sasaya then waved them off before exiting the house. 

“Ah, you want to see the current evidence?” Onagawa said, gently lifting the lid. “Please be careful. We are trying to preserve it. Once we are back in the lab, we’ll test it for fingerprints,” he warned.

The two nodded a ‘yes’ and as they peered down. The note had a huge, 3D detailed sketch of a guillotine. 

“How distasteful,” Futakuchi muttered. 

“It's the same as the first note.” 

Then for the next several minutes, they both proceeded to study the note together. 

“If I keep staring at this shit, will this really give me the answers I need,” Futakuchi said, squinting his eyes in search of clues. “This is starting to give me the same feeling when I take a multiple-choice test, and all the answers in the row are ‘C.’ 

Meanwhile, the glare on Aone’s face was intensifying by the minute. “Is that a…” his eyes shot wide open. In the smallest handwriting, hidden in the intricate shading and grooves was a message:

_‘Take the call, Date Tech.’_

Coincidentally, back at the police station, the entry-level IP phone began to ring, and immediately the Chief of Police, Oiwake, picked up the phone. 

“Hello. Can I talk to Hikaru Konami?” 

“I’m sorry, sir. This is the wrong number,” Oiwake answered in confusion. 

First and foremost, he was waiting for a call from the Tokyo branch. Secondly, he wondered whether this was a sick prank call. Everyone in Miyagi knew that Konami was already deceased, in fact, murdered. His name was plastered all over the media. 

“Then may I speak to Kazuma Chaya?” 

Oiwake noted the voice that was speaking was very distorted. 

“Sir, this is the Date Tech Police Station. The two people you want to speak of are deceased,” Oiwake stated seriously. “Now, what’s your relationship with them?” 

“My relationship?” The man on the other line paused, “I don’t have one. You know why?” 

“Why?” Oiwake was now on the verge of going off on this individual. The man was meddling with the investigation and wasting his precious time. 

“I severed it,” the man replied half-jokingly and let out a slight laugh.

“The relationship?” 

“Now. Now. Don’t be impatient, officer? Detective? You know, it would be a real shame if you don’t catch the murderer or murderers. I encourage you to keep your head. If not, more heads will roll. Remember that,” the man chastised before abruptly hanging up. 

Soon after, the man threw his head back in a peal of maniacal laughter before breaking the burner phone in half and tossing it into the trash can. “Well, that was fun.” Afterward, he picked up his brown clipboard from the nearby bench. 

He then slipped back into the crowded, public domain from the hidden hallway with a rather bored expression. As he leisurely roamed around the famous Metropolitan Museum in New York City, New York, he kept sighing nonstop. Finally, at one of the large glass countertop display cases, he decided to sketch a silver coin. The image depicted an owl with a leaf. Briefly throughout, he would glance at the case to read the description; however, as soon as he read the word, ‘replica,” he angrily crossed on his sketch. After all, he was a man who preferred authentic things, people, reactions, etc. 

Instead of looking at the art in the gallery-like everyone else, he shifted his attention to them, the people. He unclipped his brown clipboard, flipped his notebook to the next blank page, and continued sketching until his ringtone went off. 

_‘_ We're in a very weird and strange relationship.

We crush each other (Crush)

And hug each other (And hug)

You got me feeling like a psycho, psycho

People keep telling us.

As we fight like it's our last

But then we get along.

They don't get it, it's so funny. _’_

( **A/N:** “Psycho” by Red Velvet) 

A few heads turned in his direction. Some gave him odd looks, while others returned to admire the beautiful paintings, sculptures, and artifacts on display. 

“It’s just a song, people. Don’t freak out over the words ‘Psycho.’ I’m far from one. I simply enjoy the tune,” he murmured. 

Then there was that one brave person who hushed him. Nevertheless, he blatantly ignored it. They weren’t the ones who interested him. 

On the other line, there was silence.

“Hey, this is the Officiant. As you requested, I sent you the video.” 

After hearing this, the man was overjoyed. “Is that so,” he replied, trying to contain his excitement. “Go back to the cathedral. The briefcase is underneath the pedalboard of the pipe organ. As promised, it contains double.” 

In the background, there were a few clicks and sounds of footsteps. “Thanks for the bonus. It was nice doing business with ya.” 

“My pleasure.” The man then ended the call. Inside, he was left in complete awe at the things that people are willing to do for money. “They are willing to do everything and anything. This fact always surprises me. I can’t get enough of it,” he confessed out loud this time. “Seriously, does anyone have morals? Morals like me.” 

He soon clicked the green message bubble icon, downloaded the attachments, and waited. The first video was labeled ‘Wedding-Front view’ while the second was ‘wedding-Right angle.’ Shortly, he chose the 1080p HD option before pressing play. 

“I can’t believe it. The Officiant actually did it,” he said in astonishment. “The man has no morals. I still can’t believe he used his own body to bait her into this mess. Wait, what was her name again? Starts with an H. Oh, right. Hitoka Yachi. The unfaithful nobody I met at a random bar.” He then let out a slight chuckle. “Weird. How she became obsessed with me after I outright rejected her in front of everyone.”

As the suspense started to build, the man couldn’t help but be distracted. Within a few seconds, he paused the video. He was supposed to be throwing his back in intense laughter at everyone’s misery, especially the bride, Yachi, but for some reason, he didn’t. Subsequently, he readjusted his ‘18K white gold with Stars’ _Gucci_ ring because he unconsciously kept fiddling with it throughout the video. Then with his thumb and index finger, he zoomed in.

“He’s pretty.” The man became fixated and restarted the video from the beginning. “Very pretty.” The man never felt this strong sense of attraction, and if he did, it was usually towards women than men. This was a first for him.

Ironically and initially, he brushed off the Officiant’s words about meeting the groom in person. 

“Do you want to see a picture of the groom?” Officiant inquired. 

“No need. Don’t even bother.” At the time, he replied with complete, utter disinterest. “I could care less about the rest of the people. Just send me the results of the wedding. Understand?”

“Yes, I understand.” However, the Officiant had the “balls” to question him again. “Are you sure? I met him at the office with Yachi, and I have to admit, he’s really something else.”

“Once again. No need.” He then abruptly ended the call. 

Now, midway through the video, he realized he couldn’t stop smiling either. This prompted many thoughts in which he couldn’t help but wonder whether the groom’s smile was genuine or not. After all, at the start, the groom’s expression seemed somewhat strained and pained. It wasn’t wholly apparent, but now, he was greatly intrigued. He wanted to see the groom at his best. He wanted to see the groom in person to verify his attraction. 

At this point in the video, the groom threw the laptop to the floor. The man's eyes widened at the groom’s reaction.

“Wait, what exactly did he whisper into Yachi’s ear? What did he hand her? Maybe I should call back that Officiant?" 

Soon after, as the groom made his way down the nave of the cathedral, the man couldn’t help but awe in amazement.

“Wow...He’s still pretty even when hurt.” He then thought to himself that perhaps he wanted to see the groom at his worst. Maybe he wanted to see him in tears. He was genuinely curious about whether he would be “lovely” in such drastic conditions. This was how he usually felt when it came to humans or people, at least. He was very much conflicted.

“This is so strange.” As he looked back at his phone, the video had ended. Next, his alarm went off. “Ah, I need to go catch my flight, or I’ll be late.” He made an unhurried exit from the museum, and for one last time, he readjusted his silver Gucci ring. “I should have downsized,” he murmured while entering the limo. He started to fiddle at the ring some more. “However, it’s sold out.”

He continued to sigh to himself. All he could think about was him, Mr. Red-head. 

_Is it odd that I think that my ring reminds me of the groom? A gorgeous star that I want to capture. He’s rare, isn’t he? Or maybe I’m crazy? Psycho? Of course not. I’m human, that’s all. No, wait, am I the only one who sees him in that way? He’s special. I can’t wrap my mind around it. Or would I rather have him wrapped around my finger?_

  
Interestingly enough,  another man was lost in reflection. Even though their thought process was similar, they were still vastly different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: Reference back to Ch.4-First mention Hikaru Konami from ‘Tokonami.’  
> A mystery man. Dun- Dun -Dun. All I can say is Yikes.  
> Q. In my free time, I do watch/listen to crime Youtube channels. Do you?  
> Side Note: School restarted. Therefore uploads will be slow. The workload is a bit intense this quarter. The textbook is my best friend.  
> As of current, uploads will be only on the weekends (Sat-Sun) for now unless well... Zzz.


	8. Ace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

**Third Person’s POV:**

“ **Lieutenant Ace** , I mean...” The man gasped, breathing heavily. “Why did…Why did you...” As he continued exhaling against the cold, crisp air, visible forms of water vapor kept spewing out. “Why did you suddenly run out without warning?!” 

“It's nothing,” Ace replied, staring back at the bustling, urban roadway. Ace was silent for a time, watching a multitude of cars zoom past by at various speeds before answering, “There was no specific reason.” 

In truth, there was a reason. However, Ace isn’t able to comprehend why at the moment. His body involuntarily moved on its own. He then stood there in reflection, trying to jog his memory; however, nothing came with it. His mind was too preoccupied with whether he was linked to that **person** or not. 

_Who is that person to me? Who am I to that person?_

“Uh, alright, then. Can we at least go back inside? It's freezing cold out here!” He outwardly voiced, rubbing his reddish nose in irritation. “If I get sick, I’ll never hear the end of it from the Doc,” he muttered under his breath. 

Ace immediately broke his gaze from the view of the street and agreed. He then rushed up the concrete stairs by skipping two steps in between, and at the top, before entering, he commented, “Your bangs are out of place. Fix it.” 

The man abruptly stopped, took note by readjusting his black hair, and soon followed suit after firmly closing the door behind him.

Ace suddenly got that frequent urge that every human has. It was the infectious spirit of inquiry. As an individual, he preferred to know his outcome, and he needed answers to his questions. After all, dwelling on the unknown was considered a waste of time, and truthfully, deep inside, he wholeheartedly feared it. He then reminded himself not to get sidetracked from his main objectives. However, after further contemplation, he prioritized a new purpose instead, which involved finding out more information. 

_A name will tell me who you are. However, it wouldn’t be enough_ _to suffice my conquest for knowledge. My unduly curiosity._

His logic behind it was that if he found out, then perhaps he would remember. All he knew was...

“HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO—” The angry voice became muffled as the door slammed wide open. 

Subsequently, there was a second and somewhat strained yet frantic voice. “Think about your reputation!” 

Now, there were two men in front, causing a ruckus in the middle of the hallway. The first man with the scruffy goatee and taller stature was dragging out and covering the mouth of a significantly shorter man, who in which thundered, “STOP HOLDING ME BACK,” breaking, and violently thrashing from the hold, “I COULDN'T GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT MY REPUTATION! WERE THOSE HICKEYS ON YOUR NECK SOMEONE ELSE'S THEN?! HOW COULD YOU CHEAT ON SHOUYOU, YOU DUMB, UNFAITHFUL BIT—” He then kicked the door. “ASAHI, LET ME GO ALREADY!” He shouted with great intensity; however, his shouts echoed against the cathedral walls, mocking him in return. 

“YUU, CALM THE FUCK DOWN!” Azumane spun Nishinoya around and finally snapped, “ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!” He fiercely slammed the side of his fist against the wooden door frame, leaving a severe dent. 

“DO YOU NOT CARE ABOUT OUR FRIEND?!” Nishinoya tried to remove Azumane’s hands, but to no avail; it didn’t budge. In retaliation, he barked, “COULD YOU AT LEAST ACT LIKE IT!” 

“I DO,” Azumane retorted with a pained expression. Then in a more calm voice, he said, still restraining Nishinoya, “You know damn well Shouyou wouldn’t want you to ruin your own reputation. Nor does he want you to do anything you will regret. So please, for his sake, relax.” 

Nishinoya then banged his head against Azumane’s chest, and in bewilderment, he flinched at the sudden force and closeness. 

Soon after, a dejected Nishinoya cast his eyes down to his newly purchased brown dress shoes, and then he let out an exasperated sigh before uttering an apology. Meanwhile, his grip onto the sides of Azumane’s suit jacket never loosened. “Y-You’re right.” His voice trembled as he started to ramble his feelings. “I-I wish you weren’t,” he croaked, shutting his eyes in anguish. “I still c-can’t believe it. This was Shouyou’s day. A special day for him. A day where he was supposed to marry the person he l-loves. It was supposed to be the happiest moment in his life. To many, it is. He was only left betrayed in ruins.” Shortly, a different set of tears were trickling down his face. “I feel so sorry for him.” 

“We need to be strong for him when he returns...when Shouyou returns…” Azumane then raised his lanky, large arms and tightly wrapped them around Nishinoya. “All we can do is wait.” 

Amidst the bitter silence, Azumane slightly raised his head. He atlas made eye contact with Ace, who was openly observing the whole situation while his “colleague” was awkwardly looking in the other direction. 

It then dawned on Azumane that they weren’t alone, and out of embarrassment, he let out a nervous laugh. “Please excuse us...” 

“Ace, let’s go,” The colleague urged, waiting for his response. 

Ace simply nodded and left the scene to go to the batten grid stairwell. 

“The poor groom’s right hand,” the colleague muttered, still following behind. “The Best man has it rough, huh…”

“Right,” Ace answered, going up the flight of stairs. 

“You sound very unconvincing.” 

“Then how am I supposed to sound?” 

He sighed, “Your overall tone should sound emotional and sympathetic.” 

“I see...” Ace briefly paused at the last step to the second floor and continued, “but it's a sign of weakness, and it leads to trouble.” 

At the response, his colleague let out another long, spiritless sigh. “I understand.” Then he mumbled something along the lines of “You’re an emotionless gangster.” 

After Ace acknowledged that to be true, he then resumed to sort out his thoughts. All he knew was that **person’s** face. Now, he knew his name. Well, only part of it. However, he was still skeptical, and he wanted to reconfirm the information he received because it would be detrimental, maybe even fatal, if he didn’t. In all, these were the crucial lessons he learned previously.

_Retrace your steps. Where did it all start?_

Once again, Ace stood there still in complete silence, trying to mentally reconstruct the now named man’s face. 

_It was outside..._

Ace then whipped his head into the direction where he previously was this morning. At that point, he was loitering in the grand, well-kept **garden** , sitting on the scalloped red straight edging stone, watching the three-tier, fiberglass **fountain** jet out water. 

At the sight, he unexpectedly felt nostalgic. After all, throughout the years, and from the very beginning, he strictly grew up under the syndicate’s wing. In other words, his fate was already predetermined, or at least that’s what his mother often spoke illy of; meanwhile, amongst the syndicate, his highly respected, **second lieutenant** father left a positive lasting impression and a rich legacy. 

“Ace.” His father called, signaling his dominant, right hand in the air. 

So forth, Ace ran to stand side by side with his father. 

“Why did you start calling me Ace?” 

His father slightly turned to the right, peered downward, and met with Ace’s equally sharp gaze. “You certainly have a lot of questions. Then again, in that sense, we are the same,” he answered, admiring the fountain’s architecture in front, whereas in the center of the large circular water basin was a decorative pedestal with four identical, golden eagles on each side panel. At the opening of their sharp beaks, streams of tinted, blue water continuously poured out, while reigning above was a glorious, marble, contrapposto statue of Zeus, who was in the midst of throwing a lightning bolt down toward his direction. His father then admitted, “In truth, I wanted to sound more “endearing.” Unless you prefer me to call you by your given birth name, **Wakatoshi** ?” Then immediately after, his father’s expression turned stony as he precisely enunciated, “ **Ushijima.** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: FINALLY, we made it! *Shouts like crazy*  
> Update: Uploads will be on Sunday from now on unless I'm being swamped by work, school, etc. Good luck to all!~


	9. The Private Smoking Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

“Dad…

Mom…

What would you do in such a situation?” 

It was an open-ended question that would never be answered, yet he still bothered to ask. In the VIP international airport lounge in Heathrow, London, Hinata, with a heavy heart, stood stock-still in the private, enclosed smoking shelter, trying to recollect what’s left of his broken composure. To him, this was his sanctuary- a safe place. From afar, he looked cold, distant, but not lifeless since he was brimming with emotion, even at the brink of mental exhaustion. At a closer inspection, his eyes would slightly water on and off like a bulb switch; meanwhile, the cigarette in hand began to tremble. 

“I thought the outcome would be obvious,” Hinata exhaled, blowing the smoke out of his mouth. “It definitely took a turn for the worse.” He then glanced back down to his iPhone and saw the white number, 20 in the red circle; All missed calls from a single person. 

To that, Hinata let out a partly suppressed laugh. “It was a disaster. Our love from the start was doomed.” He immediately shook his head and corrected himself. “She was a beautiful disaster,” he said, exhaling out once more, “then again, for the both of us, there wasn’t room for an ounce of love.” 

‘Ask me why. ~

Do you know what a secret star is?—‘ 

His ringtone would go off, on & on; however, he wouldn’t pick up until he realized the Caller ID on the screen was no longer Hitoka Yachi (꒦໊ྀʚ꒦໊ི ). Although nonetheless reluctant, he pressed the green call button and placed the iPhone right against his ear. 

“Hey, Munchkin...Sorry to bug you. Uh, the **wedding** is over, right? The time on the invitation says… Ah, forget it! First of all, once again, congratulations! Secondly, sorry about not being able to attend.” 

After hearing the word, ‘wedding,’ Hinata slightly bent the cigarette in his hand in half, and soon his fingers started to twitch at the single, unfavorable mental image that crossed his mind. Simultaneously, faintly in the background, he heard a familiar, worried filled voice, who kept urging over and over again, “Ask him.”

“Keishin, it’s okay! Regardless, I’m thankful for the kind words!” Hinata responded cheerfully, yet his voice was a bit shaky. However, it went unnoticed. “Uh, Ittetsu, is there something you needed to ask me?” 

“Natsu hasn’t been picking up her calls or text messages. Neither were you. Also, I, uh...lost the paper with Sugawara’s and Sawamura’s phone numbers.” 

Keishin then chimed in. “Actually, it was my fault. I forgot to take the paper note out of my pocket before doing the laundry, and when I checked, it was completely disintegrated. Mind sending us the numbers again?” 

Soon after, apologies were rolling out from Ittetsu. “Once again, sorry to intrude. Uh, maybe I’m worrying too much!” He then briefly sighed and said, “Since she’s with you, I know she’s in good hands, but you both normally respond quickly. So I was somewhat alarmed. Actually, if Natsu is with you, can we please talk to her? It’s nothing urgent, really.” 

After hearing this, Hinata rechecked his missed call list and saw that a tiny portion was actually from Keishin and Ittesu. 

_How could I be so irresponsible?_

Subsequently, Hinata replied, “Natsu isn’t with me. She’s with Sugawara and Sawamura. I’ll text you their numbers right now. One second, please.” 

Although Hinata wanted to apologize for not responding earlier, he was already too consumed on the thought of addressing the entire previous situation. After all, no amount of preparation can prepare a person to deliver any sort of bad news. At this point, he felt extraordinarily agitated and anxious. He understood their concerns, clearly from their point of view; a parental stance. He understood that it would be better for them to learn the truth and his side from his own mouth.

_What if I can’t see Natsu again because of this? Will they forbid me? What am I even doing here? I should call and check up on her._

His current train of thought was jumbled all over the place.

_What if she doesn’t want to see me now because she’s traumatized? Does she hate me now? Will everyone hate me? How shameful. How disgusting. Think about her, not yourself. Your self doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t._

His breath hitched at the negative thoughts. 

_I’m a failure. I couldn’t protect Natsu! How could I let her be exposed to this? ! Do I even deserve to be her brother?_

“Shouyou?” Ittetsu inquired. “You seem busy. Should I call you another time then?"

“No, no, it’s fine,” Hinata answered rather lamely. “I’m just having a hard time sorting through my contact list, that’s all.” 

“I see!” Ittetsu said with great enthusiasm and curiosity. “Well, later, or now, I hope you can tell me how your **wedding** went! I want to hear all the wonderful details! Ah, I still can’t believe that you got **married!** You’re so young too. I’m so jealous. I wish I were there to witness it, but you know work…” 

Instantly, Hinata slammed his lit cigarette into the metal ashtray. The words kept triggering him, and now, several other mental visuals and gifs were flickering in his mind on a loop. 

“Shouyou? Is everything alright? Hmm… Maybe my wifi or cellular is glitching out?” Ittetsu asked. 

“I told you paying for the elite plan for faster wifi and internet from J-Mobile ain’t worth it. We’re paying extra for a load of bull,” Keishin grunted. “That’s it. We’re changing our service providers!” He shortly declared, “I only want the best for my husband!” 

_I can’t avoid it—time to tell the truth. Keishin and Ittesu have a right to know. She’s my sister, but she’s their daughter. Perhaps, they can help her better than I can. I shouldn’t have left the cathedral without her, but I can’t stand it! I don’t want her to see me in this state. The way I am._

After sending the message, in silence, Hinata finally tossed his stubbed out cigarette into the designated bin below. Hinata took one last, deep breath to steady his nerves.

“Keishin. Ittetsu…” 

At the end of the conversation, one-third of his ‘Mevius’ pack was gone. 

Suddenly, Hinata unexpectedly got another call. It was Natsu, and like Keishin and Ittesu, all he heard was blubbering, or the sounds of emotional distress at the other end of the line. 

“Oh, please don’t cry...” Hinata said repetitively to the point where he sounded like a broken record. Despite his begging, she continued to sob, and even though she attempted to stop, she couldn’t. All the words that left her mouth were incoherent, and all he could do was apologize. He couldn’t help but grimace to himself. Desperately, he tried to console her; meanwhile, he heard Sawamura and Sugawara doing the same. He tried his very hardest to give her the reassurance and the counseling that she needed. After all, she’s only a teenager.

“Natsu, I’m okay. I’ll be back sooner than ever. I won’t let this affect me.” Hinata emphasized without a hint of hesitation. “Trust me. Come on, trust your strong, older brother. Yes, I promise. I swear, I’m alright. I’m mostly worried about you,” he confessed with firm conviction. “Am I heartbroken? No, no. Love? Don’t worry about it; I’ll take care of it. I’ll find someone else. I’ll take it as a universal sign that she wasn’t meant for me. That’s how I see it. Don’t worry. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll visit you shortly. So please cheer up. If you’re still feeling sad, it’s okay. Call me. You know I’ll always pick up. Now, remember to be nice to Sugawara and Sawamura, okay?” Before lastly saying, “I love you.” 

In his hand, one -half of the cigs in the ‘Mevius’ pack was missing. 

_If Mom and Dad were alive. I wonder what they would say to me. I miss them. I hope they wouldn’t be too disappointed in me for failing this hard. Forgive me..._

Subsequently, he got calls from a wild Nishinoya, an equally emotional Hoshimui, and a few from his other concerned colleagues from _Schweiden Adlers’_ office. As he did with Natsu, Keishin, and Ittetsu, he would apologize, console, and reassure them. It was a painful, never-ending pattern. 

_What uncanny timing...But incredibly, how embarrassing. Can I return to the office without facing pity? Even if well it is “well-deserved.” Can I really act as nothing happened? I wonder if they see me in the same light? When you all cry to me, all I feel is guilt-As if I committed a sin, a grave crime._

It soon went down to two-thirds, and out of the blue, the next Caller ID was from a clueless Kageyama Tobio（╬ಠΘಠ) ⋌ ✯. After explaining, Kageyama instantly became full of rage, and he kept shouting, “I’ll sue the living shit out of her! I’ll ruin her life. I’ll make her pay!” In return, Hinata continued to plead, “It’s not necessary to do that. For me, please let it go. Her life is already, and probably in ruins. No need to do more damage.” 

“How can you be so calm? **Shouldn’t you be enraged?!** ” Kageyama asked, breaking down. This was now the second time Kageyama asked this question, and it was also the second time Hinata witnessed him crying; both times were over him. “W-Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! Don’t tell me she was cheating beforehand? How long? Fucking-Fuck!” 

To that, Hinata lied. “To be honest, I don't know." 

Hinata then overheard another man’s voice, “Sir, you can’t be causing a stir in the middle of the hospital. Please, step outside. Oh...Errr… you’re crying. I’m sorry to interrupt.” 

“Kageyama, listen. Don’t be a Baka. Don’t become a Bakageyama for me.” Hinata was praying that Kageyama wouldn’t lash out at the stranger.

Kageyama then muttered, “Sorry for causing a disturbance. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Soon after, he replied, “Hinata, I’m not crying. I’m just angry, that’s all.” 

However, Hinata knew that was far from the truth, and still underlying his brother’s sigh was absolute discontent and sorrow mixed with slight embarrassment. 

_It’s better to leave him to dwell and cool off. It’s his habit...In stressful situations, Kageyama likes to be alone._

Based on this knowledge, Hinata carefully then suggested, “Let’s talk later, okay?” and to that, Kageyama agreed.

In the end, the pack in Hinata’s hand was completely empty. The ashtray was stuffed full of cigarette butts, and the room was filled with the overwhelming scent of smoke. After all, in the last hour and a half, he smoked 19 cigarettes. Include the one he had this morning, totaling up to 20. 

_I should really quit, huh. Why can’t I stop?_ Hinata, in brief, shut his eyes. _I can’t catch a break at all!_

“Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight **444A** to Tokyo. We now invite those passengers with small children and those who require special assistance to start boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin roughly in ten minutes. Thank you.”

_Ah! I should hurry! I should have been wary of the time! Why is my boarding gate so far from here?!_

At the announcement, Hinata quickly emptied the remnants into the designated trash bin, threw away the cardboard pack. He soon swiftly exited the smoking shelter and ran out of the private lounge. 

“Do you mind if-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: "Shouldn’t you be enraged?!” You can refer back to Chapter 5: Kageyama's POV.


	10. The Previous Generation's Rowdy Shenanigans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

“I don’t mind either way.”

“But I do.” His father stated, rather firmly. “It would be better if you had my last name. Imagine being called the Utsui family instead. Doesn’t that sound more appealing? **Takashi Utsui** and his son, his Ace, Wakatoshi Utsui.” 

“Then should I change my last name?” Ushijima offered a blank expression, yet, internally, he was slightly confused about why his father, Utsui, would suggest that. Eventually, even as a child, Ushijima was quick on the uptake; even if Utsui tried to prolong his innocent childhood, or at least temporarily limit his exposure, it wasn’t long till he found out. 

At the inquiry, Utsui’s broad grin faded. “Don’t change it. It’s not necessary; besides, you won’t be able to.” 

However, this contradiction ultimately left Ushijima even more perplexed. He then asked, “Why?” 

_Great. How do I explain it to Ace? Damn, my honesty. Damn, my lack of parenting skills. Damn everything._

Utsui hesitated, and the fact he did it greatly bothered him. The man was expressive, forthright when it came to his answers and opinions, especially objections. He ruled his section of his district in  Miyagi with brute strength. He made it known that  Sendai, the capital, belonged to him, his syndicate, and no one else. In fact, everyone was subjected to his harsh ruling, including his team of brothers or members and elites. Later in the future, as Ushijima rose through the ranks, he also mirrored his father’s behavior, minus the emotional and expressive aspect. After all, Utsui was his main inspiration in life; therefore, he aspires to greatness. 

_I’m becoming soft, aren’t I?_

Initially, Utsui was disinclined over the thought of having children; concurrently, he also felt the same way when it came to the subject of marriage. Above all, he was exceedingly devoted to the ‘ _Shiratorizawa_ ’ Syndicate, therefore willing to do anything, including risking his life. This prompted the **Boss** , or the _Oyabun,_ **Tanji Washijou** , to use him in securing a deal with the neighboring ‘ _Fukuroudani_ ’ Syndicate in the  _Iwate Prefecture_ _._ At this juncture, it was the “first” step of negotiations that paved the way to a future “truce.” Therefore, the deal was considered to be a monumental, historic moment for both syndicates. 

In actuality, and in the past decades, _Shiratorizawa_ and _Fukuroudani_ were not on the greatest of terms; then again, none of the well-established syndicates were, until presently, little efforts in improving relations were actually made. Over time, many rose, and many fell, yet out of the prominent **6** , _Shiratorizawa_ is the longest standing syndicate. Meanwhile, for conflicts, the majority were due to territorial disputes; however, it all relatively coincided with the relationship between power and money coupled with pride. Nevertheless, there were always various reasons and exceptions, such as personal vendettas or grudges, greed, clashing of ethics, etc. In all, for the longest, multiple power struggles ensued during the shift in eras and over the course of time, to a point where the elites, higher and lower-ranking members of the _Shiratorizawa_ Syndicate, believed that the tension with _Fukuroudani_ would never cease. Yet, in a twist of fate, it did, and it was all credited to Utsui; at a severe price. Now, it all started at the _Shiratorizawa’s_ main house, during a quiet, uneventful evening till...

An owl blindly flew smack dab into the **third lieutenant’s** face. He immediately lost his balance, fell back, and clanged his head against the matted bamboo post. “Shit.” **Soekawa’s father** let out a loud groan before uttering, “I think...I think...I see stars…” He then passed out. 

In the middle of the traditional courtyard, the lines of primary and secondary subordinates who witnessed the freak accident began to panic. Along with them was **first lieutenant, Akira Saitou,** who stood there completely flabbergasted. 

Shortly, Washijou slammed the screen door aside. “Silence!” he bellowed. “What’s with the sudd'n cawmmotion?! I’m in the middle of a damn meeting?” He demanded, banging his lilac, ceramic teacup onto the surface of his expensive, cocobolo tea table. 

The subordinates instantaneously went quiet at the boss’s distinct, orotund voice. After all, who in their right mind would challenge him; only a fool would dare. The man’s nickname in the syndicate was **Demon**. Everyone knew better than to provoke him except for Utsui and the literal **Devil** , himself. 

Utsui calmly stepped out onto the engawa porch. “Don’t just stand there,” he ordered, bending down to check Soekawa’s head injury with his left hand, “take him to the nearest hospital. He could be suffering a concussion. Bruising, swelling, a skull fracture, or internal bleeding. Then again, I’m not a doctor.” Subsequently, Utsui lifted his head back up to stare at the frozen mass, and his intense expression sent chills up everyone’s spines. “Time is of the essence.” 

Straight away, a portion of the subordinates carefully yet briskly carried Soekawa out. 

“Don’t you all know that? Recognize that,” Utsui emphasized before turning away to re-enter the room. 

Shortly after, Washijou demanded a report for the loud disturbance from Saitou.

“Ah, you kidding with me?” Washijou inquired gruffly. “An owl crashed into Soekawa’s face? Then wheeuh is it? I won't believe it till I see it,” he demanded. At the same time, the glabellar lines on his forehead became increasingly profound. Although wrinkles were an indication of aging, and perhaps laughter, in this case, it meant trouble. Saitou, who was sweating bullets, was bowing at a full 90 degrees out of respect and fear.

“Ah, you lying to me? You must be.” At that time, Washijou honestly thought the entire situation was absurd and unnecessary. He would not tolerate any or all types of tomfoolery under his keen watch. “The chances auf that happening is impossible.” 

Abruptly, Utsui felt something sharp prick his foot. As soon as he turned down to look, he saw a large, hefty owl with mottled brown plumage, prominent ear-tufts, a small, black beak, and the most striking pumpkin-colored, rounded eyes. He also noticed a shiny, gold band near the right tarsus, and underneath the claw was a scroll with a wax seal with the cursive letter ‘ _F_.’ “Here,” he said, crouching down. 

_A message? From who and why?_ Although Utsui had an inkling, he knew better than to assume. 

Momentarily, Washijou’s dull gray eyes lit up in surprise. “Well, I'll be damned…hmph.” He thereupon turned to Saitou to chastise him. “Go check if Soekawa is aukay at the hawspital. This time, make sure everything is unda cawntrol auva theyah and then repawt back to me immediately. Undahstand?” 

“I understand,” Saitou responded, finally lifting himself from his bow; he then promptly exited the vicinity. 

Soon after, Washijou dismissed the rest of the subordinates and shook his head in disapproval. “Faw being fihst lieutenant, the man lacks reflexes and independence. He has potential, but so does everyone else. His flight oh fight respawnses ah up to pah, yet it cawncahns me that he tends to be trapped in his freeze mode. It’s a hindrance. A leadah can not be like that. Agree oh disagree?” 

“Whoo-hoo. Whoo-hoo.” The owl softly called, releasing its vice grip from the now semi crushed paper scroll. Shortly after, it did a small elegant jump forward, slightly revealing its relatively unmatched, skinny legs before showcasing its massive 6 foot-ish wingspan.

Utsui nodded in agreement and picked up the scroll, handing it to Washijou, who then went off on his usual tangents. “I sweah, the last time I saw this whole thing happ'n was when I was fihst recruited in _Shiratorizawa_ . I was in my eahly 20s. The cuhrent bawss I was sahving undah as a secawndary subawdinate was raising hell at the cawntents of the message sent by _Fukurodani_ , who had the audacity to declared war faw the  Fukushima  prefecture. At that time, and I guess now, I still wawndah to myself why the hell was necessary to send a real owl. Technology is bettah now. No need to be all fancy. It’s a waste of time and enahgy-”

“Bonjour à tous!” 

“Speak of the **devil**!” Washijou said crossly. 

“Whatcha talkin’ bout? It's youh favorite **secawnd-ranking subawdinate!** ” In the doorway of the front gate stood a leaning tall, lanky man with a sardonic smile. “Gramps!”

“Who ah you callin’ Gramps,” Washijou grumbled, “First and foremost, we ah not remotely related, and you’re not much youngah than me. Now, stop mimicking my heavy, “Miyagi” or Bostonian-Esque dialect.”

“You’re the one who’s graying!” 

Even though it irked Washijou, he decided to disregard the comment and focused on reading the scroll’s contents:

‘The birdie with the right injured wing saved a vital life. 

We no longer want to deal with another era full of strife. 

Therefore, will the birdie or anyone over there take a wife?

In the Tokyo Prefecture, the tension with the neighboring cats is always rife. 

Will you also take care of it if we hand you a knife?’

Signed, 

_Fukurodani_

“Hé Utsui, Je ne te manque pas du tout ?!” **Tendou’s father** exclaimed, sauntering toward their direction; meanwhile, dragging his large ‘Samsonite’ carry-on luggage. “What are you even looking at?”

“Please stop speaking in French. My understanding is limited, but, yes, I do miss you, Tendou,” Utsui replied without giving him a second glance. “How was your “business” trip to Paris?” 

At the lackluster response, Tendou rested his chin and arms against the trolley handle in disappointment. “Business is boring, per usual. Ask me about my vacation!” 

Before Tendou went on a rant and rave about French desserts, Utsui read the engraving aloud. “On the gold band, it states ‘Eurasian Eagle-Owl? Hedwig?’” Consecutively, the owl hooted in response. 

“Eurasian,” Tendou threw his arms back in a stretch and slowly enunciated, “E-Err… u-urasian. Err, you are Asian?” 

At the joke, Washijou gripped the scroll, wrinkling the edges; concurrently, Utsui was trying to keep a straight face. 

“Hedwig? Head +wig? It’s not wearing a wig, or is it? Underneath, there must be a bald circle, a tonsure haircut? I don’t think PETA would be a “fan” of that.” Tendou randomly kicked his leg out and started to stalk out like a chicken. “ Or is it Hedwig as in Harry Potter?” Like a candy cane, he then craned himself down to examine the owl. “They don’t look alike at all. Hedwig is supposed to be a white snowy owl. Not that!” Finally, he threw his hands up to the sides of his head, and his face went from “UwU” to meme-able. “‘This makes no sense!’”

Utsui hurriedly turned away from Washijou to muffle his laugh in secret. After all, Tendou’s humor and antics were a challenge to bypass. Although it could be troublesome, it allowed everyone in the syndicate, including himself, to loosen up. Truthfully, he had difficulties in doing so. As a result, Tendou would tell him often, ‘A day without laughter is a day wasted,’ ‘Laughter is the best medicine,’ and he then lastly warned, ‘If you don’t laugh, you’ll forget what happiness is.’ In Utsui’s eyes, it was true. Hence, why he is thankful for Tendou’s presence to this day. Personally, the humor gave him a sense of peace of mind, a break from work and the world itself. 

“Enough with the jokes!” Washijou scolded, throwing his teacup at Tendou’s head, who, to his dismay, dodged.

“Bang!” Tendou did a twirl. 

“The Catacombs in Paris await you,” Washijou grunted, returning to reread the message. 

“If you’re paying for the ticket again, I wouldn’t mind going,” Tendou said, shrugging.“Utsui, you can laugh, you know. Don’t be shy, now.” His lips curved up into another devious smile, and at that, Utsui only shook his head. Afterward, Tendou started to fulfill Utsui on his trip in France; meanwhile, Washijou continued to grumble. 

_Now, what's with the sudden poetry? Is it necessary to send a message in this pahticulah, useless fawmat? It sahves absolutely no puhpose._ _What kind of crap ah they spewing?_ _Who’s the ‘birdie with the right injured wing, who saved a life?’ These Fukuroudani dimwits didn't ev'n bawthah to define a place naw time! How the hell am I suppose to cawntact theih bawss. It’s not like I have him on speed dial. Do they expect me to look them up in a phone book? Wait, who is even theih cuhrent bawss? This information isn't public, common knowledge…_ _Jeez—the lack of cawmmunication ovah these decades! Well,_ _this could be a great opportunity to claim Fukushima as our territory officially, but faw all I know, _ _they could be baiting us. The biggest cawncahn should be ulterioh motives._ _Seriously, what ah those dimwits up to?_

The message was slowly starting to drive Washijou up the wall as he thought to himself.

“Now, it’s your turn. Would you mind telling me about the adventures you had while I was gone? ” Tendou then pointed at Utsui with a curious-ridden expression.  “What’s with the broken right arm?” 

Washijou whipped his head to stare at Utsui’s cast. “Did you save a life? If so, then who? Expla-”

Abruptly, there was a high-pitch trill. 

“What in the hell-

Another owl landed at Washijou’s shoulders, and at the force, he fell flat onto his bum in bewilderment. 

“Gramps!” Tendou shouted in equal shock. 

“Oh, shut up! I'm pahfectly fine. Stop acting as you cae,” Washijou grunted impatiently. “Jeez, I can't ev'n drink simple green tea in peace anymore. Now, would you mind giving me that secawnd scrawll? Elaborate on how you sustain that injury?”

Upon instructions, Utsui handed it and answered, “I broke my arm when I saved this lady’s life. She wasn’t looking when she was jaywalking the street.” As he faced the second owl, he met its piercing yellow eyes. In contrast to the Eurasian owl, who was a full adult, it was a white and gray fledgling. Without thinking, he stated, “The owl somewhat looks like her.” 

“At this point, I wouldn't be suhprise,” Washijou said, rubbing the spot where the owl landed. “Now, let me get this straight...You saved her by taking the car hit faw, hah. Hmph. Risking youh life faw a lady. Now, that's courageous yet uncharacteristic of you,” Washijou replied. Next, he read out loud, “Negotiations are set at _Konjikido_ or the Golden Hallway in the Sankozo museum at the Chuson-Ji Temple, Iwate Prefecture on xx/xx/xx at noon. P.S. Please return the owl(s) if lost. Don’t worry, they are well trained.” Washijou then cursed, “These hooting mawthahfuckahers…Ah cahtainly requesting a lot.” 

Meanwhile, loitering outside of the main house was **Bokuto’s father**. “Why do I get the feeling that someone is cursing me,” he shivered. “I hope Hedwig and Kou are doing alright.” He soon got into his black car and drove off. “I bet the **Boss, Takeyuki Yamiji** , is going to promote me to first-lieutenant! Oh, boy! I’m sure he’ll be proud of me!” Shortly after, Bokuto returned to their headquarters in Iwate to share the news; they both exchanged celebratory chest bumps. 

Yamiji shouted with joy, “I’m certain they won’t be able to refuse this deal. You’re a complete genius!”

Later, Bokuto was scolded by the **third lieutenant, Akaashi’s father;** meanwhile, Yamiji was getting an earful from one of his own advisors **, Shirofuku.**

“Oho. What a gentleman,” Tendou said while reading the first scroll. “Should I join the poetry club? Wait, does that mean Utsui is getting married? Oh ho ho ho. Sounds like an episode on ‘How I Met Your Mother.’” And with his two index bandaged fingers, he gestured to the room. “Uh...Boss, the owl over there done shat on your tea table.”

“Not my vintage, 2-grand tea table! Oh, faw fuck sakes! The chowdahhead who sent these owls is going to pay!” Washijou whipped his head at a Tendou’s wild laughter. “You think this is funny, huh. That's it!” He exploded, tossing the scroll aside. Round and round, they ran around the garden. 

“I’m just doing you a favor! Daily exercise, Gramps!” 

“ I swear if the next generation of you is like this! I'm raising hell! I’ll personally bury your whole family lineage!”

“Marriage?” Utsui questioned with a somewhat concerned face. 

A few days later, at the Golden Hallway meeting, it was revealed that the woman that Utsui saved was one of the daughters of the Bokuto family. Initially, he was supposed to marry the eldest daughter; however, within the _Fukuroudani_ Syndicate _,_ he instead married the first lieutenant’s daughter. He would later consider marrying into the Ushijima family as his biggest mistake in judgment in life. 


	11. Father & Son Moment-Utsui's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Insight of Ushijima's family dynamics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

_If I didn’t rescue the daughter of the Bokuto’s, then I wouldn’t be in this position. Why did I have a sudden change of heart? When did I start to have sympathy for people? Especially to those who I don’t know personally—complete damn strangers. Maybe that kid’s advice...No, if I didn’t grab the opportunity to be promoted to the first lieutenant, then none of this would have happened. I was too blinded with ambition; I became careless. I shouldn’t have agreed to the marriage. There is no one to blame except me, myself. Or, perhaps everything would have been fine if she wasn’t such a…_

“Vindictive lunatic.” Utsui then squeezed his eyes shut and stood in stillness, feeling the touch of the chilly breeze at his cheeks and neck. Over time, his fingers became icy and numb; oddly enough, it was solely his right. Soon after, he heard a weak-sounding whistle call, and at the repetition, Utsui’s same hand began to shake slightly, along with the memory. Finally, he snapped his head fully to the right, concurrently releasing a crackling noise. “Ah—” He grimaced, and in that instance, he gripped at his stiff neck and proceeded to rub at it with immense pressure. 

_Suppose this didn’t all happen. Then what would happen to you, Ace? Would you still exist? The outcome would be indeed different, wouldn’t it?... All these hypothetical questions will lead me to nowhere._

“You were idle again, Dad,” Ushijima said, slightly tilting his head up. “And your eyes are changing color too. It’s going all sparkle-sparkle.”

“And your hands are cold,” Utsui replied, ripping out his black leather gloves from the straight flap pockets of his classic cashmere overcoat. Based on experience, he advised, “Your eyes are identical to mine; hence, they will respond in the same manner, Ace. Remember that ‘Your eyes are the window to your soul,’ the reflection of one’s emotional state. It applies to everyone. However, be vigilant about whom you share that information with, or else they’ll take advantage of you to the point of obliteration. That’s how the syndicates are. That’s how we humans are by nature. Nevertheless, even in this fixed, demanding environment, I hope you’ll find and meet people who are trustworthy and kind-hearted. Individuals who will often tell you that ‘Your eyes are like precious gems’ instead of those who will drag you for being born different.”

 _Like your mother,_ Utsui thought and omitted. 

“Now, let’s review the reasons. If someone asks you about your eyes, what’s the first answer? Give me the logic-based, standardized version.” Utsui inquired while his tired eyes shifted from a bright peridot green to his usual dark emerald state. 

In return, Ushijima re-quoted Utsui’s past answers. “‘It’s due to the refraction of the light—the Sun’s exposure. My eyes are more reflective and sensitive.’” 

“Although that answer is correct, in this scenario, it’s irrelevant. Right?” Utsui then pointed to the sky. “Reigning above us is rather a dense and gloomy overcast; however, the Sun is nowhere in sight. Therefore, what answer can you present alternatively?”

Once more, Ushijima recited by memory,“‘Either I deliberately disregard the question, briefly acknowledge it, pretend to be ignorant on why or immediately change the subject.’” 

“Correct, then what’s the real yet uncommon reason why our eyes react in that matter?”

“‘Our descendants.’”

“That’s the short, bottom line,” Utsui said, “but the true answer.” He then elaborated, “As I previously stated, tapping into our memories causes our eyes, as you said, ‘sparkle-sparkle’ or to brighten. Although it sounds preposterous, no, it is. Even as a kid, I had difficulty comprehending it. I even raised you, Ace, to reason logically and literally; nevertheless, make this an exception. Either way, we, the Utsui’s, including yourself, can see our past lives; we also have ancestral dreams. It’s been a while since I last questioned, but do you still dream frequently?”

“A lot,” Ushijima confessed with a troubled face. “Sometimes, they are too real.” 

“It’s unfavorable, isn’t it?” Utsui sighed. Although he wanted to apologize, and he had. Truthfully, there was nothing he could do. 

_Suppose I knew a solution, Ace. I would try to protect you, but this has been plaguing us for generations, including myself._ Lately, Utsui dreams, or rather nightmares, were causing him havoc and a lack of sleep. _The marriage must be stressing me to the max, or perhaps, it’s an indication that I’ll face a severe impediment in the near future._ However, Utsui was not certain at all. _Interpretations vary. Besides Ace, I only have myself to consult._ For a moment, he missed his own father’s formidable presence. 

“I also still dream vividly; for even my taste, they’re too realistic. You’ll have to get used to it since it’s inevitable. After all, to control it is beyond our reach. Despite being interpreted as a curse, please do not overlook the ancestors’ experiences, teachings, or wisdom and especially, heed their warnings. From them, it’s a gift of communication and connection. One day, you’ll see everything from my eyes too.” He spoke rather casually; nonetheless, there was an underlying bitterness. He then proceeded to continue his lecture, “As another reminder, try your hardest not to confuse it with current reality and conceive it in a positive light. To me, I see it as an unknown, beautiful phenomenon.” Finally, Utsui squatted down to meet his son at eye level, his other joints cracked in unison, causing him to let out another restless sigh before smiling. “I’m glad that you remembered most of my words. You never failed to impress me, Ace.” 

_An exclusive secret meant solely for us,_ he thought, _you are the only person who can understand me._

At the praise, Ushijima also returned a genuine smile. 

_Parenthood certainly does change people_ , Utsui thought; to him, it was almost laughable at this point. _Oh, the irony._

Utsui clenched his jaw at the predicament he brought upon himself out of mere frustration and force of habit.

_It was an unanticipated change. Becoming a father changed my overall outlook; at the same time, I strongly believe it softened me for the worst. I’m afraid it’ll be detrimental to my work. With that said, I don’t exactly oppose it._

Utsui then carefully placed the right, oversized glove over Ushijima’s small, uncalloused hand before saying, “Sorry to worry you. I’ve been idling too much, haven’t I?” Afterward, he repeated the same action with the left and emphasized, “If you space out, or if you are lost, then one becomes inattentive. However, please don’t make it a habit, or it’ll hinder you, maybe even lead you to ruins. Now, these are the words and teachings I strictly learned from Boss Washijou himself and my father. Remember that, please. Or else he’ll scold you without mercy. Don’t you want to avoid that? I’ll keep repeating this until it’s embedded into you. It’s for the best, Ace. Trust in me.” 

In agreement, Ushijima nodded. 

“Also, if you’re cold, tell me. Don’t hesitate to speak your mind. Do you understand?” Although Utsui spoke matter-of-factly, a part of him thought the advice he was giving was hypocritical. 

_Nowadays, I, myself, feel hesitant. It’s partly, no, all due to you, Ace. Can’t you see that too?_ As he continued to waver, he thought, _I hope that you won’t commit the same terrible mistakes that I made. Learn from our descendants, and me, Ace._

“I understand, but what about yourself?” Ushijima questioned with a tinge of worry and guilt in his voice. “Won’t you be cold too?” After all, what he hated most was to be a burden to his father. He soon flipped both his hands’ front side up.

“I am, but it’s fine,” Utsui answered honestly. “It’s my fault. I should’ve reminded you to bring your gloves.” 

Eventually, Ushijima started to exercise or do a fist flex, given that it would increase his blood circulation and temperature; however, as soon as he stretched his fingers outwardly, he abruptly stopped. There was an arch of several small indentations at the right palm, which in turn, caused him to scrutinize it. Following the confusion, he glanced up at Utsui for answers.

Utsui took notice and lifted his hands, placing them side by side with Ushijima. As he showcased them, the sleeve of his coat drooped, revealing a glimpse of his traditional tattoos that he did not flaunt openly. Neither Ushijima nor anyone knew what motifs he got except for the artist, himself. He would often tell Ushijima, ‘I’ll reveal them to you once you become a full-fledged adult. By then, you should have an idea of what you want yourself.’

As they both compare, Utsui also noted the vast difference. At the knuckles, his overall hands were extensively larger and muscular. Besides the slight tan, they were ridden with various, lightened scars, pressed out blue-ish purple veins, and coupled with telltale signs of aging such as the striking wrinkles and freckling of dark spots; meanwhile, Ushijima exuded the opposite, screaming youth. He then answered with a straight face, “I’m not injured if that’s what you are wondering.” Subsequently, at the thenar crease, the _lifeline_ , he outlined the distinct mark with his thumb and said, “It’s **human**.” 

At the response, Ushijima’s eyes significantly widened in appalment. 

“I’m only kidding.” Utsui then shook his head and let out a light chuckle. “Be logical, now. Not gullible, Ace.” 

“Then what is it?” 

“It’s a dog bite. To be specific, it's from a Rottweiler. I was lucky to get away with a warning.” 

At this point, Ushijima could sense the mass disappointment in his father’s voice, who genuinely loved dogs. Unfortunately, dogs generally tended to snap at him. 

Prior to standing back up, Utsui decided to pull off his dark purple scarf to tie around Ushijima’s neck. He thereupon broke into the broadest grin. “The color suits you well. Now, wear it with pride.” 

At that moment, Ushijima opened his mouth to reply; suddenly, he closed it. As a result, Utsui spoke harshly, “Ace, what have been telling you. If you have something to say, then say it.” Ushijima took a step back at the bellow of Utsui’s voice; afterward, Utsui hung his head in shame. 

_Ace is merely a child, not to mention mine. Bias perhaps. He’s not a subordinate! He’s still too young to start learning the ropes of the syndicate. Then again, he’ll learn one day. Stop slipping up. Now is not the time._

Besides his parental crisis, Utsui sometimes has difficulty separating his work from his family. _Don’t mix it_ ; he always reminded himself. 

“Ahem…” Utsui cleared his throat with an apologetic look. “I mean, go for it. Don’t fear the consequences. Now, tell me,” he said awkwardly, patting his hand against Ushijima’s narrow shoulders. 

“Why?” Ushijima asked, faltering a bit. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. But, why can’t I change my last name?” 

_Was it still bothering him this whole time?_

To Ushijima, it was an innocuous question, however to Utsui, it was deemed offensive; anything related to that vile woman, his wife, he would rather suffer and die alone in seclusion than to be with her, to be buried with her.

_Great. I forgot to answer Ace’s previous question. I mean, there’s no reason for me to hold back. No, kids are like sponges, and they’re sensitive too._

“When I married your mother, I renounced my authority. The head of her household practically makes all of my decisions. It was part of the circumstances of the “arrangement.” It was also to please and honor her family’s wishes. At the time, it was all out of respect. By default, you need to abide by the rules, but when you become an adult. No one can hold you back, Ace. Feel free to rebel.” 

“Is that the only reason why you call me Ace?”

“It's not the sole reason,” Utsui then asserted. “You have potential. Without a doubt, I firmly believe you’ll succeed and surpass me.” Even though he was exhausted, his expression gradually became fiercer. 

“Now, your mother,” Utsui said rather stiffly; _Don’t become like her._

He then turned his head to look down at Ace, who was also looking back up at him. He noticed that Ace was still blooming with intense curiosity, and he nonverbally kept screaming, ‘Tell me the truth.’ 

Utsui took a deep, resolute breath. “Your mother was another reason why I started to refer to you as Ace. She dragged me to meet her fortune teller, who suggested, ‘Your child lacks balance; one of the five elements: fire, water, air, metal, earth. His current given name is not grand enough to support his astronomical size future _—_ his major conquests. Therefore, give him a powerful nickname to counter what he lacks. To predetermine his success.’ Instead of choosing a name from the sheet, out of the blue, I thought of ‘Ace.’ Seems rather anticlimactic?” He then folded his arms. “To clarify, there is nothing wrong with naming traditions. Nothing wrong with believing in superstitions or whatever you believe. Unless it starts to affect you and the people around you, either way, don’t let someone force your beliefs onto you,” he emphasized, almost enraged. “Do you understand?”

_Should I mention how frequently she visits these fortune-tellers for psychic readings? How much money she spends. A percentage of it is my money too; Thousands and thousands of dollars. Occasionally, it would be okay, but she’s not wary of how they're entirely scamming her. Is she trying to get me in debt? How can she be so self-fish? She doesn’t think of you, Ace, at all. I’m not sure what’s more damaging. The fact that you overhear your mother complaining about your left-handedness and our green eyes. How she believes you're now associated with the devil, evilness, and how you’re cursed. Or the speculative rumors about our marriage. What’s worse is there some truth to it. Her family doesn’t know how to keep quiet about family affairs._

Ushijima then gripped Utsui's hand as if to say, ‘It’s okay.’ “ I understand, but then do I become like you? Should I follow you?” 

“Yes, and no. Become like me, but at the same time, become the best version of me. However, the final decision is in your hands. You can choose and pick what you want to learn for me.” 

“Best version of you?” Ace repeated. 

“That’s right.” Utsui then turned away to look back at the **fountain**. Suddenly out of nowhere, Tendou came running into the park yelling his name. “Boss Washijou wants to speak with you. It’s urgent!” 

Utsui gave an affirmative nod. He then glanced down at Ushijima and said, “Everything we spoke of today is between us. Understand?” He then brought his index finger, bent it into a crook shape, and tapped his nose twice. In return, Ushijima did the same. 

“Take care, Ace.”


	12. The Fallen Petals {Part 1}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

“I will,” Ushijima answered, “but…” He gritted his teeth. “Why didn’t you do the same.” 

From then on, he moved his head to the left, then right, left, and then right again, slowly stretching out his stiff neck muscles, and shortly afterward, he proceeded to pinch the bridge of his nose _—_ to alleviate the pain _—_ of an oncoming headache. As he squinted, he saw a familiar figure in the near distance, sitting at the base of the simplistic, unadorned _—_ three-tiered fountain, and isolating it _—_ was a row of freshly trimmed hedge wall panels.

In order to refocus, Ushijima kept blinking; however, despite the effort, his vision became a blurry mixture of blue, green, and black. 

_Dad?...No..._ _It’s only an illusion... I’m delusional. I—_

Disrupting his thoughts was an inaudible sound of some sort. In alarm, he reflexively grabbed at his left hip and thought of two options; meanwhile, the reminisces of his **childhood** shattered.

  * _Danger!_
  * _False alarm!_



In those few, tense moments, nothing occurred; consequently, option B lit up. 

_It’s nothing…It's merely a lone voice in the wind._ Eventually, Ushijima let out a disgruntled sigh... _No. The wind is unable to speak. It’s a figment of my imagination. Think in a literal sense. I must be mistaken._

At his illogicalness, he furrowed his brows in utter disappointment, and when he glanced down, the cup of ‘Costa’ coffee that his **subordinate Tendou** offered laid spilt against the exposed aggregate path, staining it a blackish-brown. 

_An absolute waste,_ Ushijima thought _; I barely even got a sip of “pleasing” bitterness…_ He soon slumped forward and rested his face into his hands. At the fingertips, he made contact with his puffy, thick lids, and as he roughly rubbed them in a circular motion, he then realized how sunken his eyes were underneath; the exhaustion from yesterday’s sleep deprivation was now catching up to him. 

_The sleeping pills aren’t working at all,_ he noted; _Nothing I try is working._ For a brief moment, he stopped applying pressure to his face, and he slightly shifted his fingers aside to take a sneak peek. —Back at the fountain, Utsui stood there tall, waving back at him with the broadest grin. However, once Ushijima closed his eyes and reopened, Utsui’s presence vanished. _For fuck sakes, he’s gone. Get that in your head; he_ recited, shaking off the rest of his sentimentality— _those invasive, pin pricking emotions are unnecessary..._

After several minutes of reconditioning, Ushijima removed his hands and got a hold of his fallen paper cup, resetting it to its original upright position. However, instead of setting it down gently like most people, he accidentally crushed it down half its size—all due to the force and weight of his left hand. As a result, from the breast pocket of his black, mid-long blazer, he yanked out his lilac handkerchief to wipe and dab the splatters on his sleeve. Afterward, he stuffed the handkerchief, crumpling it; into the front pocket of his black chino pants. Sighing wearily, he sat there lost, and for a while, his gaze would always linger to the fountain in front. Unfortunately, amidst the delightful **garden** , the oasis of the serenity he had, kept being disturbed.

_Am I mishearing things? The wind keeps carrying sounds— a voice. I’m for certain it belongs to a person, or are my senses simply skewed due to the lack of sleep?_

Once more, Ushijima clamped his face and aggressively started to rub at his eyes; to fight the onset sleepiness he felt. This time when he opened his eyes…

A single red petal landed at the foot of Ushijima’s _Paul Smith_ ‘Rutford’ burgundy derby shoes. He then reached out to grip the flimsy, translucent petal from the concrete path to examine it; meanwhile, with his non-dominant right hand, he grabbed the edging stone to maintain his balance. As for observations, besides the noticeably soft texture, the petal’s rich color was the same as his shoes; despite that, it contrasted with his signature, royal purple top lines. As he took an even closer look, he realized he was mistaken; the hue was comparatively different. Concurrently, he also got a light waft of sweetness and aromaticity. 

_This looks relatively more brownish; therefore, this must be maroon? Not burgundy...Hmm... What do people often say again? Red is the representation of one’s passion for another._

“To back out.” —At the phrase, Ushijima fiercely whipped his head around to find the source of the faint voice. _It’s close, but where. Who is_ _it?_

Ushijima then halted in awe when he caught sight of the man from above, who stood on the balcony with a rose in hand. Against the heavy cloud cover in the sky, his ethereal beauty, impossibly attractive, and natural glow stood unmatched. In a soft-spoken voice, he said, “or to not to back out…”

Out of nothingness, Utsui’s words echoed in his mind, “ _The eyes are the window to a person's soul, the reflection of one’s emotional state.”_

So forth, another petal unexpectedly fell onto the surface of Ushijima’s face, who sat still, wholly enraptured by the man’s appearance.  To him, it was a first.  Through his eyes, the man’s stature appeared to be short and slender, especially at the waist—breakable yet wrappable. Meanwhile, he wore a somewhat oversized, rumpled-up white suit coupled with matching pink accessories: a bow tie, a handkerchief, and a boutonnière; nonetheless, everything seemed relatively cheap except for his face. Furthermore, his rather pale complexion seemed to be seamlessly flawless from this angle, and it truly exuded youth. He had a small nose, a narrow chin, straight soft brows, and framing his facial features was his gelled reddish-orange hair—a neat side-swept with short sides. Despite everything, what was pulling him in the most, like gravity, was the man’s two large orbs—his dark brown eyes that were swirling with intense emotion were the equivalent of a black hole. 

Consequently, several questions invaded Ushijima’s mind: _Is he the groom? Is he a part of the groomsmen? Is it possible that he is a person of status or importance? A model? An actor? Excluding the attire, he’s got that image. No, don’t make baseless assumptions without concrete evidence._ He couldn’t shift his gaze away, and in continuance, he studied the man’s face; _Wait, why does he have such a distraught expression? For some reason, it bothers me. I don’t understand at all. Do I…_ His head began to ache briefly, behind his eyes and nose. 

Minutes later, at the repetition of the man’s voice, one by one, each petal fell, and each one, Ushijima caught.

_Does he not like roses? Isn’t it a traditional flower well-loved by many?_

In suddenness, a surge of immense warmth and adrenaline overcame Ushijima’s whole body, temporarily melting away the overtaking coldness he felt outside and in his lungs. _—_ He was now fully wide awake. 

_What does he mean by ‘To back out or to not back out.’ What exactly is he referring to? Isn’t that a spin-off of the well-known phrase…_

Likewise, Ushijima was not well-versed in sayings, proverbs, etc.; he then recalled **3rd lieutenant Reon Oohira’s** answer; previously, Tendou, as per usual, initiated his inquiries. 

“An estimated wait time of 30 minutes?!” At this point, Tendou was half-crying and laughing. “I knew it! I should have booked a reservation in advance.”— In the middle of the restaurant’s waiting room, he continued to mope around, and time and time, he would gander at the hostess with puppy eyes. To his demise, the hostess didn’t even spare a glance since she was busily conversing with other customers. 

“Oh, stop staring. It’s impolite; besides, you’ll attract too much unnecessary attention,” **Subordinate Eita Semi** said with a small scowl on his face. Meanwhile, presently in hand, he tightly held the guest pager, waiting for it to Bzzt early. “I'm dead ass starving here too, be patient; it’ll be our turn soon.” In annoyance, he kept muttering, “Remind me, what’s so great about eating at a high-end place. Isn’t it overrated and overpriced?”

“Oh↗ ho↘ ho↗, Semi-Semi,” Tendou teased. “You simply don’t understand. ‘Le Gavroche’ is not an ordinary restaurant, you cute simpleton. It has two magnificent shiny Michelin stars. Did you not do your research? How disappointing!” he said, flailing his arms in the air like an inflatable tube man. “In accordance to _Google Reviews_ , this is the place where ‘impeccable service and luxe French’ fine dining is at, or at least it's one of the best places to go in London. Though truth be told, I had absolutely no idea of its existence until it popped up in my recommendations. Therefore, I had to add it to my bucket list! Anyway, it averaged a 4.5/5, and as always, French cuisine is superior—”

“Lieutenant Ace,” Oohira interjected awkwardly. “I mean Ushijima,” he said with reluctance. He then lowered the volume of his voice.“I received a call from **second lieutenant** **Soekawa** and Boss Washijou, saying that they’ll join us at a later time since they’re stuck in traffic.” 

“I see,” Ushijima acknowledged rather indifferently; in truth, he was only conserving his energy. After all, the nightmares he had were mixed with ceaseless, real depictions and memories. He then resumed to dwell on the possible implications in quietness, trying to connect the dots; _If only it were predictable and well established in advance like the constellations in the night sky,_ he thought, _Nothing makes sense anymore. It’s as if I’m running in an endless, infinite circle. I don’t recognize what the ancestors are trying to convey._ _I don’t understand at all what_ — 

“Actually, I hope you don’t mind the wait, Li—Ushijima,” Tendou said while swinging around, pivoting at his heel to look back. At the same time, the rest of the subordinates nervously gulped, awaiting his response. 

“Not at all,” Ushijima answered, thinking; _Perhaps the suggestion was too prompt, too late._ He then turned to face everyone and stated openly, “If you’re still having trouble in transitioning, then refer to me as Lieutenant Ace or Ace; you all already have a habit of doing so. ” He then quoted, “Even if the Boss advised you all to address me by my last name to ‘close the vast distance between us.’—At his old age, he’s sensitive. —Or perhaps you overheard the origin, the rumors on how I received that nickname. Regardless, do as you please, within lines of formalities, of course. Is that clear?”

In unison, everyone in their party, all ranks, fiercely nodded and hesitantly responded, “Y-Yes, lieutenant.” Yet, internally they thought, _To critique the Boss like that is like choosing death. Ace truly fears nothing._

At the meek response, Ushijima narrowed his eyes. “Is that clear?” he emphasized with more grit, “Don’t hesitate.” —As a sign of respect and out of fear, they all bowed a complete 90 degrees and repeated the response in a louder voice. Afterward, they heaved a sigh of relief when the burden was lifted, yet it was short-lived. Oftentimes, they held their breath when Tendou spoke—the only man who dared to approach Ushijima freely. Even if Ushijima had a phlegmatic temperament, they greatly feared the day he’ll erupt. 

“Alrighty, Ushijima… BUT what about Super Ace, or the nickname, The Lefty?” Tendou’s eyes started dancing in amusement. “Oh, I know. Can I call you MIRACLE BOY! THEE MIRACLE BOI!” 

Oohira shook his head. Amongst everyone else, including himself, they wondered if Tendou valued his life. _One day, he’s going to end up in a ditch for clowning on people. Either by the Lieutenant or the Boss. If not, indeed by Semi. No, the next and wrong person he pisses off_...

Ushijima ignored the irrelevant suggestion out of disinterest, still too preoccupied with sorting his own horde of thoughts. Semi then stood up.“Enough is enough with the nicknames, Tendou.”

“But Semi-Semi...” 

“Stop calling me that in public! You’re ruining my cool reputation,” Semi grumbled, lightly bonking Tendou on the head. “Now, be quiet already. Quit bothering, Ushijima.” 

However, Tendou took offense. “Geez Mcgee,” Tendou whined, holding his now, partially flatten red hair. “That really hurt, Semi-Semi. My poor heart too.” As he started to massage the point of impact out of nowhere, and in the act of vengeance, he grabbed Semi’s face and slammed his lips against his, pulling him into the most resounding and deepest French kiss known to humanity. 

Immediately, Oohira brought his arm up to block Ushijima’s view. “This is too explicit!” He half-shouted, covering his own face. So forth, everyone else turned away to face the wall, internally cursing; _Man, being single sucks ass. Thanks for the reminder, Tendou;_ meanwhile, other on-lookers gasped, internally screaming; _I ship it!_

“Don’t look,” **Subordinate Hayato Yamagata** interjected, blocking Goshiki’s view by standing in front with crossed arms. “Would you two stop with the PDA? I can’t even go to the bathroom for a few minutes, and you're already inflicting damage to the subordinates’ eyes, especially the eaglets. There’s a time and place, please.” 

At the complaints, Semi broke from the kiss first, slightly panting with a sizzling red face. Tendou, on the hand, tenderly wiped the streamline of saliva they shared with his sleeve in promptness, and with a devious grin, he said rather proudly.

“Bienvenue en France, bébé!” 

**“Welcome to France, Baby!”**

And with grace, Tendou led a dazed Semi back to his waiting seat. “You are such a tease…causing all this trouble is going to kill me one day, I swear,” Semi mumbled, covering his face in shame. 

“No need to feel embarrassed,” Tendou consoled, “No need to play ‘Effeuiller la marguerite’ game with me either, cause I know you love me already, even if you don’t openly declare it; I will for you.” 

To that, Semi grumbled, “You’re the fucking devil; there’s a special spot in hell for you.” He then sat in silence and questioning his life choices. _Honestly, why did I marry you again? Stupid Ten, you’re driving me crazy,_ he thought before coughing an apology to everyone. 

Oohira soon retracted his arm. “Ah...Sorry about that, Li—Ushijima.” He then let out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mean to invade your personal space.” 

“What does ‘‘Effeuiller la marguerite’ mean?” Ushijima asked, furrowing his brows, and with great enthusiasm, Tendou chimed in. “‘It basically translates to ‘pluck a daisy.’ Normally, people pluck a ‘Marguerite commune,’ an ox-eye daisy to see whether their object of desire—their love, their dear feelings will be returned to them or not. In all, it relates to the renowned phrase, ‘He (She) loves me, or he (she) loves me not.’ Romantic, right? Perhaps one day you’ll pluck one yourself for someone special.” 

“The method is rather drastic. Your decisions are based on a flower. As for love,” Ushijima paused, “I doubt it. It’s improbable.” 

At the words, Tendou threw head back in hearty laughter. “ You’re hilarious, Ushijima, but you’re going to make people cry. Actually, I might...Just kidding,” he shrugged. “Well, love is complicated; it makes people indecisive. Once you experience it, you’ll know how ruthless it can sometimes be, how complex it is. To people, it can be either trivial or transformational. Please don’t take the phrase so seriously! I’m for sure people play that game for fun, reassurance, and as a last resort. Then again, who knows.” He then eyed Ushijima with interest. “Aren’t you lonely?” 

The question caught Ushijima off guard. “I don’t believe so.” He then gripped the fabric of his pants, bunching it. _In truth, I never thought of it. I never thought of having someone by my side. The emptiness I feel is out of loneliness? Sounds prosperous. Or am I afraid that having attachments makes things messy; I can’t shake this uneasiness._ _I don’t want to end up…_

Abruptly a flash of Utsui’s memory, yesterday’s dream, popped up into Ushijima’s mind;  _“I’m guilty,_ ” Utsui admitted, ‘I've made a grave mistake that I cannot reverse.”

In suddenness, Oohira bravely pulled out his phone to show Ushijima an article he just searched. “In accordance to _Guinness World Records_ , ‘The largest game consisted of 331 people who picked petals off daisies simultaneously on the set of Lo Show Dei Record, in Milan, Italy, on 18 April 2009.’ Even today, the game is still popularized. Isn’t that quite an impressive record?” Oohira said, admiring the incredible photos. 

Initially, Ushijima thought, _It’s a waste._ Yet, after seeing the joyous faces that the people had, his opinion swayed. _Well, if people like it, then that’s all that matters. After all, flowers are supposed to be on display, they’re gifts, and they’re bound to wilt. Even though they’re short-lived, the impression is everlasting. It’s an action of love that I most likely won’t use ever. Will there ever be a chance?_ He then scolded himself; _Stop wasting your time-wasting on such nonsense. Still, I’m incredibly intrigued by the What-ifs._

At the news, Ushijima raised an eyebrow. “Now, I’m curious about the ratio. Out of those 331, how many people got their feelings returned, or was it simply futile, wishful thinking?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N:   
> Happy Lunar New Year!  
> Happy Valentine’s Day!  
> 


	13. The Fallen Petals {Part 2}

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More insight on Ushijima!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning#1: Explicit Language will appear throughout the story!

Instead of an answer, a string of delicate, eery notes began to play, following a low and steady hum. In confusion, Ushijima tilted his head up and perceived that the man no longer had a rose in hand but a lit cigarette; in the other, he held his dear iPhone, which was secured by a slim, clear case of two kissing angels. For a moment, his expression softened; however, seconds later, shock crossed his face, and in a scramble, he placed the phone against his small, right ear, listening with anticipation; meanwhile, Ushijima sat still, unintentionally tuning in. Afterward, the man drew a long breath and spoke with great cheeriness, “I know. I know. I’ll be there in a second, okay.” 

In the spur of the moment, all Ushijima thought, _today’s dreary weather is doing the man an injustice._ And at the unorthodox conclusion, the electric pain in his head flared inconsistently and sharply, causing him to grimace and tense again. Nonetheless, he ignored the pressing want to ball both fists, given the view of the small mound of petals residing on his palms. — _Yet, for some reason, I want to see him up close in a place where the light is luminous. Why is that?_ —Eventually, he let out another exasperated sigh. Rather than acting abrasively, he moved all the various cup-shaped and flattened petals to his right hand in carefulness. Next, he started to massage at his temples with his free left, whereas the discomfort had traveled. 

The man then asked, “Of course, I had to. How are you enjoying London?” Concurrently, his eyes lit up like shooting stars, together, causing Ushijima to partially close his own. 

_I especially want to see those up close; his eyes...They strongly give me the impression that they’ll tell me something I_ _don’t know, answers..._ Unexpectedly, another wave of heat surpassed Ushijima’s body, leaving him restless, divulging in peculiarity. _Or perhaps I’ll see the universe in them. No, that’s impossible. What are you thinking? This type of foolish, nonsensical reasoning will lead you nowhere; it will utterly heed your progression._ Regardless of any internal admonishments, he still had difficulty denying the constant spring of his infinite curiosity.

“Okay, okay. See you soon, Natsu!” The man exclaimed before pocketing his phone. 

_Natsu?_ Ushijima noted, _another woman? A Man? Who? What kind of relationship do they have?_ —In a random collectiveness, he recalled a conversation he had with one of the **lieutenants** at the _Shiratorizawa_ branch in Brazil. 

At that time, **third lieutenant Pedro** was losing his marbles. “You don’t watch anime at all? Are you serious, serious?” His mouth was now hanging low in stupefaction, and it left him wondering. _This guy… How does he live? The motto is ‘No Internet. No anime. No life!’_

“I don’t,” Ushijima answered, directly looking into Pedro’s eyes unphased. “I have no interest, nor do I have the time.” Thereafter, he checked his limited edition ‘TB Gold Dragon’ watch from _Arnold & Son_, and to his dismay, it indicated 11: 55 P.M., crushing all hopes of gaining proper sleep. In normalcy, at 10 P.M. sharp, he would already be in bed, trying to sleep, or at the minimum, rest his eyes. He then harshly reminded himself, _Concentrate. Be on guard. No matter what circumstance it is, a leader cannot falter._ Even on “break,” he was always on edge. 

“Are you even Japanese?” Pedro commented sarcastically. 

At the apparent question, Ushijima narrowed his eyes. “I am.”

Consequently, Pedro shut his mouth and avoided complete eye contact. He obviously knew he misspoke, forgetting entirely that the man who sat in front was someone he shouldn’t casually joke with. 

_Crap, I better shut up now if I want to live. In actuality, why did I even bother making small talk? Don’t tell me; he’s genuinely mad?_

Abruptly, Ushijima lifted the side front of his black suit jacket and reached inside with an unreadable expression. “The lack of eye contact is no good,” he said, staring back. As a result, Pedro gulped nervously; meanwhile, everyone in the room, who was observing, went dead silent. 

_Don’t tell me he’s going to pull a knife on me—a gun. Oh, for crying out loud; this is our first time meeting! Plus, I’m all alone. Seriously, where are my subordinates when I need them? Those slackers had to ditch today. As if picking them up from the Galeão International airport by myself wasn’t stressful enough._

At that time, Pedro had to fight the immense urge not to reverse his car and drive off. His basic animal instincts were telling him to run away!’ because Ushijima seemingly glared at him at first glance. —It was clear that there was a distinct yet different air to Ushijima, and surrounding him in bold red letters were the words, ‘Danger’ and ‘Death,’ or at least that’s what Pedro imagined. 

_In the name of—The whole drive was quiet too! I should have skrrt skrrt out there when I had the chance. My palms were sweaty, and surprisingly so were my balls..._ Internally, he swore up a storm; **Santana** , you owe me big time.— By and by, Pedro’s mind continued to drift back to the rumors incoming from branches in Japan; interestingly enough, the vast majority were embroiled around Ushijima, detailing his ruthless character. After all, news traveled fast. _Ah...What do people often say about Ushijima’s reputation again? That’s right; he’s the Boss’s favorite, current right-hand man. Or should I say, left-hand man? Haha, I’m so dead. Wait...That means he’s a prime candidate to be the next future Boss. Oh, Gawd. Now, that’s a scary thought. What else do they say? ...Apparently, he rose through the ranks quickly due to his high intelligence and resilience. However, he’s extremely hot-tempered, impatient, and unable to tolerate stupid questions. Double chocolate chip crap. Why did I say that?! Besides, no one has ever witnessed him crack a smile; he kills without a second thought, never misses, and the way he does it..._ Pedro shook his head at stories. _Leave me out of it! Have mercy?!_

“Pedro,” Ushijima said, still rummaging his interior pockets. 

In return, Pedro gave an incredulous look. _Don’t lose your composure. You’re a lieutenant too!_ He reminded himself before positioning his hand up to his chin in contemplation. _I need to be more careful about how I speak._

Ushijima's expression darkened, and through a clenched jaw, he replied, “Seems like I misplaced it.” 

Alarmed by the glint in his eyes, Pedro started to bow. “Lieutenant Ace, I mean no disrespect, I apologize for being rude—”

“Here,” Ushijima said calmly, pulling out his passport. “Proof that I’m Japanese.” 

Unfortunately, Pedro’s soul already left; his mind was overloaded on the thought of meeting his demise—his death. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Tendou snorted, and the rest of the members combusted into laughter. Afterward, Tendou abruptly stood up from the gray lounge sofa and sauntered toward Pedro with an evil grin. 

Subsequently, Ushijima emphasized, “I’m not,” before wondering, _did I do something wrong?_ He then turned his attention back to Pedro. “Is that not enough? Do you need more proof?” 

“Of course not! No need!” Pedro half-exclaimed, snapping out of his shock. Soon after, he swiveled his chair, did an awkward crab-walk to the right, and pulled out a book from the modern wall shelf. Immediately, he switched subjects. “At least, tell me you have an interest in something?” Out of braveness, he turned to face Ushijima; however, he kept shaking his leg out of fear. _I can’t be afraid of Ushijima. My pride is on the line here!_

However, cutting into the conversation was a wild Tendou. “Our Ace of a lieutenant’s sole interest is in work, the syndicate.” He then gave Ushijima a look of pity. “...and nothing else. Might as well say, his first love is the syndicate.” He soon shivered, seductively holding his arms, yet his face contorted in mere disgust. “Sounds lonely.” 

Shortly, Tendou leaned in to whisper into Pedro’s ear. “Take it easy. As long as you don’t cross Ushijima, you’ll be fine. Remember, he takes things in a literal sense. Also, if you keep your mouth open, flies will get in. Or maybe maggots. Didn’t you hear about the rumors?” 

“Is that a threat?” Pedro whispered back. Honestly, the image sincerely filled him with abhorrence. 

“I mean...That’s what happened to the last guy.” 

Pedro made a ‘WTF’ face. “You’re lying, right?” 

“I am,” Tendou wheezed, slapping his knee. “You’re really gullible! An easy tease. I can’t believe it.” He then whipped his back to the rest of the syndicate members. “Oh↗ ho↘ ho↗! Hey Yamagata, Oohira, Soekawa. You'll owe me 20 precious dollars. He was scared out of his mind!” 

After hearing that, all three members swore under their breath, thinking, _dealing with the devil was a mistake!_

“You were making bets,” Pedro said with an agape mouth. _Perhaps I should be warier of Tendou instead of Ushijima. The man seems wicked._

“Bets are always made when we meet new people,” Tendou shrugged, gesturing to Ushijima in an overly majestic manner. “My money-maker,” he said, half-jokingly. 

However, Ushijima only furrowed his brows at Tendou’s antics. Truthfully, he did not care about the current situation that unfolded nor understood the type of dreaded fear he instilled in people when passing by. The intimidating man was simply lost in his own world—entrapped by his complexity. He then asked seriously, “Do you have anything else you want to say to me, Pedro?” 

At the question, Pedro blurted, slamming his fist against his other palm.  “You’re like your father, Utsui  .” He let out an awkward laugh before face-palming himself. _I’m digging my own grave, aren’t I?_

At the comment, Ushijima’s outward demeanor didn’t change. After all, it was a phrase that he often heard and didn’t exactly mind. On the contrary, internally, a tingle of regret rose from his quiet thoughts. 

“The loneliness part?” Ushijima inquired, tilting his head. 

“No-no-no!” Pedro denied vehemently. _Why do I keep slipping up?_

In continuation, Pedro spoke earnestly, “Truth be told. I heard many stories from **1st lieutenant** , **Heitor Santana,** and the **2nd** , or his wife, **Nice Rodrigues**. After all, I’m not a part of your father’s generation. I only recall brief moments where I met him as a kid, but I highly respect him. In fact, I greatly admired him. Now that I think of it...Besides work, I often saw him at the beach competing with other people. Actually, in my opinion, he was fairly good at beach volleyball. Maybe if you have time, give it a try as an interest.” 

To that, Ushijima nodded in acknowledgment. Although the information wasn’t new, he was curious about how excellent his father was—it was one side that he wasn’t able to see. 

“Hey, Pedro.” Tendou pointed to the book in his hand.“Is that Natsu Dragneel?” 

“You...” Pedro exclaimed, “uncultured swine!” 

“Natsu Dragneel is from the anime _Fairy_ _Tail_ _!_ The person on the cover is Luffy A.K.A my favorite character from _One Piece_. What nonsense are you spouting?! They look nothing alike!” he huffed angrily and went on a passionate rant. 

“They do look-a-like. Natsu and Luffy both have great smiles and nice abs.” The look in Tendou’s eye was sly, and honestly, he knew who they were. He just enjoys trolling as his favorite pastime. 

“True,” Pedro coughed, admitting in defeat. “but you know, there is more to look at besides looks! Don’t be so superficial. Beauty is within!” At the blunt declaration, once more, the room roared with a range of raucous laughter. 

“Did you really have to expose me like that, Tendou,” Pedro said, banging his against the bookcase as his soul left him once more. 

“Nope, you just exposed yourself.” 

“T-E-N,” Semi yelled, stumbling in from the doorway. 

“Huh?” Tendou pivoted in surprise as a tipsy Semi commenced rushing toward him. Apparently, in the neighboring office room, a drinking contest was ensuing. 

“Gee, how much did you drink? And with whom?” Tendou asked, casting a skeptical look. 

Semi ignored the question. “You’re eyeing other men now?” He said, dragging Tendou out of the room by the ear, who then tossed up fast, hand signals of ‘Please save me.’ 

Semi then shouted, “I was hanging out with Pedro’s subordinates.” 

“Those betrayers, partying without me...fleeing work early. The commotion! ” Pedro then stood up to excuse himself. “I’m sorry. I’ll be leaving first.” He deeply bowed and exited the room; meanwhile, in rebellion, Tendou began to sing the sexual yet enticing lyrics to _WAP_ by Cardi B Ft. Megan Thee Stallion out loud. —As the door slammed shut, he lastly uttered, “Won’t let me park that baguette in your Semi-Semi truck?” 

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Oohira said, shaking his head in disapproval.

“I second that,” Yamagata said, chanting his sins away. 

“Third,” Soekawa said. “And I’m out.” 

Ushijima nodded in agreement, and to his luck, instead of recollecting the disturbances that later unraveled that night in Brazil, the lovely sound of soft, delightful laughter brought Ushijima back to reality. _I highly doubt that he knows a fictional man named Natsu Dragneel._ At this point, Ushijima strongly felt as if he was losing all sense, all concentration. _I don’t know the character well either;_ _besides, he’s the one who looks like he came out of a book. In retrospect, how can a man like him exist?_ — _Hah, why is my mind all over the place? Is it because of him? I feel so distracted. I should head to the pharmacy for some Tylenol and—_ Unfortunately, when he gazed up, the man from the balcony was now gone. Startled, and without much thinking, he shoved the petals he was cupping into his front pocket; whereas, parallel to one that contained his handkerchief. Quickly, he vacated the garden, yanked the doors to the cathedral, and ran through the hallway. 

_I need to see him. To ask. I have so many things I want to ask._

As he continued to dash, Ushijima soon bumped into one of his subordinates, Goshiki. “Ah...Lieutenant Ace!” However, Ushijima ignored the call and decided to climb the flight of stairs to the **second floor**. As a result, Goshiki chased after him in bewilderment. 

_I’ll wait for him to reappear. Rather than waste my time looking through all the doors—a bird’s eye view will suffice me. It’s the best current solution. Plus, based on his attire, I have a feeling I will see him here._ Glancing down, he saw the crowd of elites socializing and waiting at the altar; he saw the officiant on stand-by, reconfirming his notions of a wedding about to start. 

“Lieutenant Ace. You’re spacing out again!” Goshiki half-shouted, waving his hand in front of Ushijima’s eyes. “What are you even thinking about?” 

“A man named Shouyou.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy A/N: Warnings for the next chapter!  
> Update 3/7: I'm still working on it.


End file.
